Blade: The Unwritten Chapters
by Silverfox92
Summary: The Nexus (aka futuristic New York), 2060. It's been fifteen years since the last Great Vampire-Human war, and Blade's back on the streets, cleaning up crime with his new apprentice, Onyx. Even if you haven't seen any of the Blade movies, then this is a cool twist on the vampire hunting genre. If you have questions or things that you would like to see, review me in the box below.
1. Prologue: Weapons! Samurai Versus Ninja!

**Blade: The Unwritten Chapters**

**Prologue**

New York, 2055…

Rain poured from the sky in a thick, endless sheet. James cracked his neck twice, a secret Taoist art taught to him by his mentor. Though he could care less about the glowing stream of chi that circulated through his body, it did make him feel as though he could slam anybody, and right now, his target was less than a yard away, smirking, as the rain soaked her outfit.

"A schoolgirl, really?" He called out to the nothingness around him. James knew his mentor was watching somewhere in the shadows, but no reply came back to him. The only sounds that could be heard where they stood were the heavy slaps of the rain upon pavement. A quick glance around revealed an abandoned street. A few cars were haphazardly parked on broken cobblestones, next to decrepit buildings that were probably erected easily over 200 years ago. Stray cats poked around inside of a trashcan, somewhere far off, a siren blared, and if he listened hard enough, he could hear another human heartbeat in the darkness. He ran a leather-gloved hand through his tightly braided cornrows. He still couldn't believe this. The girl across from him wore a dull blue plaid skirt, with a crimson bowtie at the neck. A few bangs cascaded down her face, but other than that, her hair was parted neatly down the center, and braided into two pigtails. Though she was slightly taller than one would expect, she still had a slender, rather than athletic frame. Grunting partially in disgust, partially in disappointment, James felt more like he was about to strike down a pervert's fantasy than he was an actual vampire. Onyx sighed heavily, the first night he was out for some combat action, and he was stuck killing a vampire that looked like she hadn't even graduated high school yet.

"Aisha," the girl spoke so silently, it was almost as if he'd imagined it. However, when she pulled out two katanas, a shining silver blade and another black as night, the action spoke volumes to him. Suddenly, he had a vicious sickle in his right hand, and a spiked weight hanging from a chain in the other. He figured it was as good a night as any to try out his kusarigama.

In the blink of an eye, Aisha's eyes began glowing bright red, small fangs filled her mouth, and her speed accelerated, comparable to any other creature of the night with ease. James had to block multiple times, while his mentor's laughter rang in the air. James knew it was because he had underestimated his opponent and because Aisha was swinging her blades so close to him that his kusari was almost useless.

"Too slow," Aisha called from behind him, landing a powerful roundhouse to his back that caused him to stumble forward. Sensing her rushing him with the dual blades, James leaped into the air, flipping so quickly that his kusari blade shot back, between his legs, and directly in Aisha's path. She evaded, but a crescent shaped slash ripped into her shoulder before Onyx pulled back the sickle.

He watched her lick her wound, a minacious grin on her pale face. The rain made her two braids five times more menacing, and a scowl coated her small lips. Rushing him again, James quickly swung the metal weight in a circle around his head, and threw it at her. Dodging by inches, Aisha merely cocked her neck, never slowing down her full speed sprint. When she got close enough, her swords clashed with the sickle in his hand. Growling she tried to move the obstruction from protecting his skin, but she could not. She even tried slicing his fingers, which would indisputably end the fight, however, the kusari contained a small, metallic guard that protected the joints of his fingers. Try as she might, he was too handy with the weapon. She'd have to try something else.

Trapped in a deadlock, Aisha's mind moved faster than James's did. She struck several more times, to give him the impression that she was mindlessly attacking him. On her last strike, she slammed all her weight against her two blades. She knew he could hold his ground, but just as suddenly, Aisha dashed backward, freeing her weight now from her opponent's chest. This completely threw James off balance, and though the spiked weight he yanked forward was approaching the back of her skull, she already had a plan.

Her fist slammed into Onyx's cheek, while the sword in her left hand quickly knocked away the ten-pound death ball. She struck again, this time with enough space to be lethal, but quick as a cat; Onyx was back in the fight, countering each of her moves with strong, skillful attacks. Though Aisha hadn't drawn blood, it was clear that she was much faster, and had plenty of experience. While James had sufficient experience using the kusarigama, plain and simple, Aisha's battle experience outclassed him. It wasn't long before beads of sweat began racing down his face. What was once a pervert's fantasy had suddenly become a tiresome nightmare. Each of Aisha's strikes pushed him back, as her blades were much stronger than a short sickle and a chain. He grunted in dissatisfaction. Yet again, she had him at close range, so the other end of kusari was of no use to him. However, he was no fool. They didn't call him Onyx for nothing.

Impossibly, he landed a swift kick to her chest, which had her sliding backward on the pavement in a crouch. In another gravity defying display, James flipped through the air, twisting like an urban tornado, the long chain zipping through the heavens precariously. The sharp sickle shot through the sky and curved at her body, with deadly accuracy. Aisha effortlessly danced out of the way, as if she'd rehearsed the move a thousand times. When Onyx yanked the blade back, she merely knocked it away with her silver katana, licking her lips as her gait increased in speed, directly towards him.

"Gotcha," he merely mouthed the word and Aisha's expression changed, contorting from a wicked smirk, into one of mild irritation. The rain died down into a quiet murmur, as blood spilled on the streets. The long titanium chain snaked around Aisha's ankle dangerously, and behind her, facing in the opposite direction, sickle battle-poised was Onyx, standing full height, and brimming with confidence. He pulled, and Aisha's body crashed into the pavement hard, undoubtedly scarring her right shoulder with the jarring wet asphalt below.

Just as quickly, he turned around walking the gap between him and the vampire, taking pride in the grimace on her sleek model-esque face. Positioning the kusari just above her heart, Onyx let out a battle cry before he viciously struck at her, his animalistic sound reverberating off the nearby buildings. The results disappointed him. Though her ankles were bloody and torn, she still managed to curl her leg quickly toward herself, upsetting the chain in his hand. When the sickle came down to meet her heart, her left hand defiantly defended with the silver blade, only to have her weapon fly out of her hands with the force of the strike.

Cold metal clanged on the ground, much too far away for her to reach. Even though quick maneuvering had her standing with her ankle freed, she still was down one weapon, and had a bleeding ankle to boot. The sprinkling rain and her red eyes made her look as if she had almost drowned sometime before the fight. Aisha gazed into his dark gray eyes, and for a moment, she saw a glint of victory there. She noted it in her mental file case, right before her body began to heal.

Onyx noticed too, and swiftly resumed his attacks, but to no avail. Suddenly Aisha's movements were so fast, that it took all of his body's concentration just to keep sight of her form. The girl would sprint toward him, make a transition to all fours in a primal charge, and in the twinkle of an eye be right next to him, ready to tear his flesh into shreds with the black blade. She tripped him, and in the split second he needed to regain his balance, she tore several bleeding gashes into his right arm. Whipping around to face her, he met with air, shocked unexpectedly by the lightest touch on his shoulder. The world seemed to slow down, as it clicked in his mind what was happening. This was Aisha's hand, and as it clamped tighter to his shoulder, he could hear the blade ringing through the air. Had she had claws like some of the vampires he'd heard about, he might be dead. Nevertheless, it was fortunate for him that she didn't. He snatched an oblong object from his coat, and quickly threw it onto the ground, which erupted in a blinding flash of ultraviolet light.

He heard her screech, but not before her obsidian blade ripped a light scar down his entire back. Facing her to prevent further damage to his back, he was forced to marvel at her in awe, for after his vision cleared, Aisha was howling with her eyes covered. However, she was untouched by ultraviolet burns, which would have killed normal vampires in a flash. Somehow, she had managed to avoid the small explosion, and still have enough accuracy to give him a fresh wound, which made him wince at the thought of it.

He threw the kusari, but just as he did, Aisha's eyes opened again, as red and focused as ever. She appeared behind him and jabbed the blade into his back, but with the help of the chain, he had pulled her forward, and sandwiched her to his back, the chain holding her body to his in an awkward hug. Instead of poking out of his chest, the black katana neatly jutted out from beneath his elbow, unable to inflict any damage. He didn't know if she was tired or not, but Aisha began panting obnoxiously loud in his ear.

He started to jog, ignoring the agitated grunts of the petite Japanese girl strapped to his back. Aisha moved her arm a little, but with a jump from James, her arm became trapped uselessly at her side. Now her sword was screeching against the ground loudly, wailing, begging her arm to move it into Onyx's flesh, but the thick chain bound both her arms efficiently. Despite her struggles and vicious cursing, there was no way she was going to be able to move, unless his grip loosened on the chain that held her there.

"What are you doing?" She protested, knowing the dangers that biting him could produce. She could smell it in his blood, an aberration, something dangerous, even toxic to vampires hid somewhere deep within. Any vampire foolish enough to try to turn this man would end up dying again, permanently. Even though she knew that, there was an erotic pull to his throat. Aisha could hear the blood pumping through his jugular, faster now that he was running. Rather than getting engulfed by such a fleeting desire, she decided to ignore it. She growled again, and repeated her question, annoyed that he was carrying her through the streets like a hiking backpack, and her feather light body wasn't causing him any pain.

"Checkmate." He answered, leaping into the air, bouncing off a wall and finally landing on the other side of a streetlight, which hang from a telephone wire.

Aisha gasped for air. Bound neck to toe and hanging upside down, her sword uselessly fell to the ground, and she struggled, helpless while swinging from the light. The metal weight at the end of the chain was packed into the pavement deep enough to keep her there, and surprisingly, it increased in size, going from the ten-pound one she saw earlier to something quadruple the stature of original.

James Carter smiled a prize-winning smile and held the kusari's sickle to her neck. "Am I done ye-," he began, before Blade's black trench coat appeared in his peripheral vision.

"You ought to be more careful," his smooth charismatic voice carried over to him. Blade's hands were both straining to hold back a levitating silver sword, which was close enough to scratch James's face, or worse, take his head off. Onyx froze as the black blade levitated, aligned with his heart, and faster than he could move, it poked a hole in his shirt, the wound bleeding freely.

"She got you." Blade spoke, while James's arms slumped in defeat. The swords sliced across the titanium, and somehow, Aisha stood directly across from him, swords sheathed as if nothing had happened. She gave Blade a respectable nod. "That chi you don't care about? She's a master," Blade laughed into the night, and somewhere far away, bats swarmed toward the moon, the clouds of the night vanishing as if the world had become peaceful, even for a moment.


	2. Chapter 1: Dance of the Dragons

**Chapter One**

Five Years Later…Nexus aka The 'New' New York 2060…

"Got an update from Squeaks on some vamp activity in Chinatown at the Red Dragon, seems like the drug trade is at the core of the Nexus these days." Blade spoke, slicing a curve in two with a sharp turn of the steering wheel. The car's tires squealed, but its handling was so perfect that they might as well have glided through the turn on a cloud. A Wesley Snipes bobble head sat on the glowing dashboard, and when Blade plucked it idly, he couldn't suppress a fanged grin. The car crested 90, and vehicles flew by them in a blur, some people yelling incoherent curse words at the top of their lungs, while others gaped, open-mouthed. It was 2060 now and even during rush hour in the dark city shadowed by a dull black sky, traffic was nonexistent.

Technology was far from hover cars, but the invention of Trak-Automation, a system of tiny nanomachines that spanned the entire area of pavement in the city, made vehicle on vehicle crashes nearly impossible. Should a potential collision between two vehicles occur, the nanomachines would kick into action, engaging anti-lock brakes automatically on both vehicles. Its efficiency was unmatched. The famous Mr. N, who had developed the technology, no doubt had offers from around the nation to implement his technological advancement in their cities. A rich ass man at his finest, Blade knew that for sure. Despite that fact, there were times where an idiot would smash into a building at over 80 miles an hour, making front-page news, but even that was a rarity in the Nexus.

"There's drug activity in Chinatown?" Onyx questioned sarcastically, lounging back in his seat and shaking his head. "Does this mean that Aisha, or whoever she is, is going to be there?"

Blade chuckled, fumbling with the sound system. "Hey, you might learn something tonight. And maybe, when it's all done you'll have grown a pair, saved her life, and gotten a victory kiss," he smirked. The blaring music drowned out James's quick, heated response. Slick Rick and Doug E. Fresh spat verses back and forth in 'The Show', while an incredulous look passed over Onyx's face.

"What's this? I bet this was the music that old man Whis—," Blade cut him a glare through stunning Aviators that could freeze boiling water. Onyx's mouth went dry, and instead of continuing his insult, he turned his attention to the empty sky. However, with a flick, Blade had changed the song to '99 Problems' by Jay Z.

"Whatchu know about the old school?" Blade questioned, rocking against the steering wheel to the lyrics. Little Wesley Snipes seemed to agree as well, mysteriously moving along with the beat while the bass line thumped. Blade took another sharp left, squealing tires and burning rubber. Shockingly bright, their environment transformed into red and golden bursts of color. They were in Chinatown now, and whether it was the High Roller Casino down the street or the cryptic Chinese characters as far as the eye could see, there was no denying it. In the night, it appeared to be a neon paradise full of dancing lanterns and slant-roofed kiosks with people still milling about everywhere. This was definitely the part of the city that didn't sleep. Even several hours from now, Blade knew that the Red Light district would be brimming with social activities, whether legal or not.

"Man I know that was about 55 or so years ago. In any case, bump something from at least 2010; they at least had a few good artists in their generation. Let's see, there was Busta Rhymes, Wiz, Kendrick Lamar, Childish Gambino, shoot, G.L. Fresh K, Darkfox…I'd even settle for some Lil Wayne right now!" He exclaimed desperately, watching Blade turn to him in slow motion.

"Well you was doin' fifty five in a fifty fo'," Blade mouthed, wagging his finger at him. He dodged a pickup truck without looking forward, and flew over the crest of a hill, gaining at least two seconds of hang time.

The car bumped noisily into the ground and Blade swerved into a drift. He turned the power off on the stereo and pulled down an alley to park. He swore he imagined it, but Onyx saw the flash of a skirt, blinked, and his eyes confirmed it. Aisha was climbing inside a narrow back window, probably to the women's restroom. He blinked again and she vanished inside, forcing him to take in the entirety of the establishment. The Red Dragon was a fine two story Chinese restaurant, complete with balconies and oriental lighting. While locking the vehicle, Blade spoke in a serious tone. "First, act casual, no fuckups. Secondly, don't go to the second floor unless I tell you to. Third, remember where the car is, we're gonna need a speedy getaway." Onyx merely nodded as Blade exited the alley and pushed the restaurant's giant ornate doors. "And last but not least, watch a master at work."

Welcome bells echoed eerily through the quiet building and several people automatically looked in their direction out of pure reflex. Most of them returned to their conversations, or to stuffing their mouths with food. The faces that lingered, Blade had already counted. Using both his eyes and nose, he tallied at least seven vampires in the building, four of them on their current floor. One of the females switched her way over to them, tearing more than a few men's eyes away from their wives, even if it was only for a second. Her high-heeled pumps clicked professionally across the ground and she flashed them a dazzling smile full of bright white teeth. Her name tag said Marissa, in a bright green ink.

"May I find you and _your friend_ a seat?" She asked, clucking her tongue once as her vision roved over Onyx's athletic body. Blade nodded, and the busty blonde led them to a small table with two decorated redwood chairs.

"Would you like a bedroom with that?" Blade taunted Onyx as they walked. The duo ended up sitting opposite each other, and she handed them menus. Suggestively, she licked the tip of her black ink pen, and put it to a mini yellow legal pad, which she extracted slowly with purpose from her bra. Ignoring her sexy French Maid costume which was clearly inappropriate, Blade tilted his head up, as if contemplating his options. Onyx subtly watched Blade from over the top of his laminated menu. Blade's next breath could have the entire room flooded with panicking humans, enraged vampires, and enough blood all around to fill a Culligan tank.

"I'll have four steaks, well done, and a Bloody Mary, extra bloody" Blade smiled, as Onyx held his breath. However, when Marissa smiled and looked in his direction, Onyx was shocked. Nothing had gone down? Nobody had shot a gun? No civilians were screaming their heads off? Was he in the right place?

"Give me a rack of ribs, and some black tea." The waitress bowed cutely, and then began walking to the kitchen.

"I think she likes you." Blade smirked, still keeping a vampire 360-degree view of the entire area. Onyx laughed back, shaking his head. He looked at her again then looked back at Blade. Blade was unarmed to the naked eye, and didn't have his trademark sword strapped to his back, but on closer inspection, James noticed the custom black leather sap gloves on his fists. He himself had a couple of SMG's, three silver stakes, and two flash grenades.

Blade observed his own surroundings. While most of the chatter was low and contained, he overheard the two vampires in the kitchen discussing how to alert the others upstairs about his arrival. The female waitress was clearly winning the argument and it disgusted him how subservient the male was to her demands. In his peripheral vision, Blade took note that the other two burly servers that were clearly vampires hadn't noticed him, or had done a good job of pretending they hadn't.

Marissa emerged from the kitchen holding several silver knives facedown, staring straight at the pair of men. As fast as lightning, she threw them, and acting on impulse, Blade turned, then flipped up his chair so that the knives sliced and stuck inside the cushion. Kicking the chair in the air, he yelled for Onyx to move, and then a loud commotion filled the entire restaurant. The two burly vampires charged, knocking customers to the floor. In the ear splitting panic, people trampled people, bones broke, and suddenly husband and wife became enemies, as people stormed the entrance, all trying to escape. Circling around, Onyx tried to assess the situation, but a flying plate hit him in the chest with surprising force, knocking him against a wall. Blade shook his head, disappointed. Too bad Onyx would miss this.

Silver spikes exploded from the metal plates in the gloves, and in a second, Blade was in battle mode. The first vampire to attack him was a tattooed brute who swung his fist in a powerful arc. Blade caught his wrist, and spinning, his elbow crunched into his foes thick neck. Before allowing him to fall, Blade's knee crunched into his ribs, and his fist slammed directly to the front of the other vampire guard's face. The punch tore flesh off it, incinerating the entire body into ash on contact. Blade didn't skip a beat; he leaped forward, backhanded one of the vampire girls, and doubled back to plant spiked boots into the tattooed vampire's back. A scream filled the room as he exploded into fiery ashes.

"I'll kill her!" Marissa, their waitress threatened, with a young woman in her arms. The woman screamed for her husband who tried to escape, but dropped to the ground once a sharp knife stabbed into his shoulder blade. Marissa maintained a painful grip, knotting the redhead's long hair maliciously, as her victim broke into uncontrollable sobs. Blade stared straight forward, unwavering, and the female vampire he slapped stood up again, regrouping behind Marissa. Things were going to get complicated.

James finally recovered and jumped to his feet. He immediately started running up the stairs. James called Blade and tossed him a stake, which he caught midair, and then launched at Marissa, who dodged by jumping to the floor, abandoning her weeping hostage. The sharp pike gored the other female vampire in the neck and pinned her to the bright dragons painted along the wall. Soon, she became ash blowing away in the breeze of the open window leaving the silver weapon alone in the wall. The frightened redhead scrambled to her feet, and took this opportunity to flee.

James circled around a small spiral staircase, and found the door to the only room on the second floor. A light film of soundproof glass covered the door but that didn't stop him from kicking it in. The first thing he did was gasp, noticing Aisha on a retro, red fur couch topless, with a vampire wrapped around her. She pulled bandages out of thin air, and wrapped her torso in it, all in the seconds it took for the bullets to fly.

Two vampires halfway through snorting lines of purple powder, yelled for backup, and a vamp in the corner punched in a series of numbers on a cell phone. Two more vampires pulled nickel-plated guns from their waists, but Onyx was a step ahead. He jumped forward, and pulled out one of the two SMG's in his jacket. Bullets rained down on the room, smashing priceless vases and several vampires turned into dust. The smart ones pulled out their own weapons, and fired back, creating a showdown, in the open room. Aisha surveyed the gunfire from her perch on the ceiling hanging upside down. When the opportunity presented itself, she dropped down, and cleanly split the vampire she was with before Onyx's arrival, in half, seconds after his ugly lustful eyes found her. This caused a dark vampire with a lit cigarette in his mouth to notice her, and aim his gun at her; however, his bloody hand was flying across the room before he even thought about pulling the trigger. Her second katana impaled his heart.

"Disgusting men," she mused, stabbing a running vampire in the heart. The three remaining vampires, all decked in black and white tuxedos, darted past James under the cover of gunfire, turning to a pathway she hadn't noticed before. Aisha was after them in a second, and though he had shot the legs from under a table, taking cover behind it, he heard Aisha loud and clear. "I've got them, go help Blade!" He sprinted back down the stairs, and directly into chaos.

Aisha followed the three vampires down a set of iron stairs. Every so often she had to slightly retreat to avoid gunfire, yet inevitably their curses strung together as each of them ran out of ammunition. They descended much too far to be headed to the first floor, so Aisha assumed there was an underground parking garage below, not like she'd let any of them make it that far. She closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath and again, time appeared to slow down. Turning her shining silver blade so that it pointed behind her, she channeled her chi into the butt of the handle. Out of nowhere, a kusari blade ejected, unfolding into the deadly sickle mid-air. Connected by small, powerful steel rings, she pulled, and the kusari made a wide arc downward. The vampire she was aiming for ducked, and it flew ahead of him. Turning to taunt her, he flipped her 'the bird', and then his torso disconnected from his legs.

She laughed maniacally, kicking his ashes with delight. Then, she decided that she wouldn't catch the other two walking, even sprinting down what seemed like thousands of steps. They'd already descended three floors, and the end of their decline was nowhere in sight. Once her sword changed back to normal, she jumped, and fell in a perfectly straight line, eyes closed, hands crossed over her chest, allowing gravity to propel her at a dangerous speed to the bottom floor. The wind whipped her two pigtails above her head, and whooshed in her ears, reminding her of roaring flames in her past.

Angry, her eyes opened, and she landed, directly on a vampire's back causing a bloodcurdling snap to echo around them. She was guessing that was his spinal cord, broken cleanly through. Though the unlucky vampire would never move again because of a broken back, her execution style strike to his throat ensured that he would never regenerate again either.

She dashed out of the building, slamming the old door against the brick wall. Unfortunately, her target was already closing the door in a large black Range Rover. Aisha cursed, yet her movements never faltered. Launching herself off a BFI dumpster, she pulled back the silver katana, and chucked it at the truck. It slit the plastic body easily, and landed dangerously close to the gas tank. She saw the tires smoking, but before the Rover could leave her in a carbon monoxide cloud, the kusari exploded from the handle of the sword, and when it unfolded, she snatched it from the air. She cursed again, because even though she held the sickle by the straight portion, the back of her hand suffered a nasty gash for it. With the combination of her chi and immense strength, she stalled the vehicle, which was burning rubber and smoking, yet going nowhere.

"Eat this." She spat scornfully, her black blade glowing expectantly. Her aura burned bright gold, and her eyes intermittently copied the color. "Kami no honoo,"1*** she yelled, slashing her black katana causing a vertical line of flame to zoom up the pavement, and explode on impact with the vehicle. Black and white flames lashed out at the surrounding area, smashing glass windows, and scorching the side of the building.

Aisha stared at the almost full moon, which seemed ten times larger than normal. She ignored the sounds of crashing debris and focused on each crater she could point out. This night brought back so many memories of five years ago, that she just couldn't count them. "Don't die James." She spoke silently and then she was gone.

Blade shrugged, cracking his neck twice. He'd told that fool not to go upstairs, and since the cavalry arrived two groups of vampires encircled his body. A group of four was two arms' length away; while a larger group stood in wait outside of them. They had smartened up, he noticed, each vampire had a weapon with a silver tip, and other than a couple of baseball bats, everything was sharpened to perfection. Though somewhere in the back of his mind, he longed for his sword, he adjusted to the situation. He could already see these vampires killing themselves over him—literally.

"This is where you die Blade!" Marissa shouted with a devilish grin across her face. However, Blade did the same. At once, the inner circle attacked, and in a flash, Blade had two silver stakes in his hands, connected by a thin wire. Dropping to the ground, one of the stakes shot out of his hands, and obliterate one of his opponents' midsections. Before the body could torch, Blade yanked it all the way around himself, until the deadly stake sliced each of the vampires remaining in the inner circle. The stake came back to him, and he tapped the two together, creating an electric spark. Still crouched, he smirked to the outer group, who hesitated as their friends' weapons hit the ground noisily, their owners slaughtered.

"Seems like that group didn't have the balls to land an attack," Blade taunted. Noticing movement behind him, he turned, sweeping his foot into a bat on the ground. In the air, it rotated until the tip smashed a head. Ashes covered the floor. Tired of waiting, he ran toward Marissa, which meant going through the remaining vampires, which now stood in a line blockading her. His weapons clashed with theirs, and though their speedy melee attacks slipped past his defenses every once in a while, rattling his senses, he was back in the fray, strong as ever.

Onyx clambered down the stairs, past countless destroyed tables and faux porcelain dishes. He noted the amount of ash piles, and soon was aware of Blade attacking the line of opponents while Marissa hissed her anger. "Duck," He called out, throwing a UV flash grenade. Beeping, the silver-coated grenade ticked off four seconds while airborne, then became silent. With a swoop of his cape and a low dodge, two of his attackers broke each other's bones with their weapons. Covered by his cape, when the explosion blasted away chairs and china shrapnel, it didn't affect Blade at all.

Blade stood tall, his cape billowing at his ankles. "You get that kiss?" He spoke to Onyx over his shoulder, who replied with a foul word. Marissa had taken cover behind a table in the kitchen during the flash bang, burning her hands in the process; nonetheless, at seeing Blade's terrifying face, she was scuttling backwards like a crab. He kicked a head, the eyes all white, and it rolled toward her, shrapnel bruising the man's face, burns making it even uglier. It dissolved into black dust just as it hit her shoe. "I said well done, but I think you took it wrong." Blade chuckled. His stakes were back in his coat, but the spikes on his gloves proved just as menacing. To prove the point, he cracked his knuckles.

"Blade we gotta go!" Onyx cried out, jumping to the floor as .50 caliber bullets blasted through every window, destroying the mini bar, and smashing pictures on the walls. He crawled on his elbows, military style, to the kitchen, where Blade was interrogating Marissa on where the alternate exits were.

"Get upstairs, now!" Blade commanded him, and he tore in the direction of the stairs, as police coated in black armor burst through the windows, letting go of thick nylon ropes. Onyx sprinted after him. In the distance, Blade heard the sound of choppers and sirens, but the constant gunfire in his direction was the loudest of all.

One of the policemen, dressed in a green general's suit, kicked in the front door and ordered several of the officers to go after Blade. Police rushed by, already firing silver rounds. Blade tore around the corner avoiding death by inches, Onyx hot on his tail. Cops were already on the second floor. Sliding to his knees, Blade pulled out his stakes again, slamming one into the defender's helmet. He screamed falling to the floor in agony, as the electricity jumped from him to his allies behind him electrocuting them all.

Onyx ran on the wall, and then slammed his heel into a thick chest. His weight crushed down on ribs, but he didn't stop running behind Blade. Stairs crunched under his feet, and the bullet sounds echoed in his ears. He could only pray that when they left the building, that the cops hadn't secured this escape route. The descent was much shorter than he thought it would be. Cool air rushed into his lungs, as he entered the night. Fresh rejuvenation in his veins, he kicked the door behind him closed, and it jammed as planned. He was running in the direction of their car now, cutting across an adjacent alleyway. Sirens pounded all around, just like the shots had earlier. Blade tossed him the keys, and he caught them automatically, revving up the BMW in seconds.

The highway seemed unforgiving, but slowing to an average 40 miles per hour, they blended in with normal traffic, even as high-alert squad cars blared their way past them, straight to the Red Dragon.

"Good memory," Blade complimented, and Onyx nodded.

"No Bloody Mary for you though, you'll have to get plastered some other night," Onyx teased. Blade pointed off in the distance, where a skirt flew high, and twin swords gleamed.

"Looks like no ass for you though. You'll just have to jack off for another night." The rest of the ride back to the base was in silence, aside from the Nas blasting on the radio.

"Not again! I cannot believe that vampire eluded us again!" Jonathan raged, slamming down his matching Green Beret, and crushing it under his leather boot. His handheld radio confirmed that the perimeter was secure, and now being taped off from the public. There still was a body count to tally. However, he'd missed Blade by a hair, which was history repeating itself. There hadn't been a case in the last decade involving the notorious day-walker that had more than piles of ashes and illegal evidence remaining. Ever since he'd turned 19 and become Squad Captain of the Special Paranormal Evisceration Control Sect (SPECS) before Yuji promoted him to Commanding General, he'd been hunting Blade, with only small leads. "Jade…" he whispered, momentarily becoming lost in his own memories. An officer interrupted his reminiscing with a salute. Men were returning from the upper floor, drugs, needles, and weapons tagged and bagged.

"Sir, what do we do about the other person traveling with subject X?" Officer Dan handed him a clear HD photo, taken by his suit as soon as he sighted the targets with his rifle. Jonathan looked and sure enough, following Blade up the stairs, face determined, was another individual, dressed clearly the same, with stylish cornrows in his head. The general squinted and looked at the feet in the photograph. This new subject wore combat boots made by Double Decker himself; Jonathan recognized the brand instantly.

He stood up tall, dispatching his team to the lab. Custom made cars cut on their sirens, and the area was a ghost town in seconds, complete with car spikes, roadblocks, and professionally set detours. Jonathan looked up at the dashboard, his car scanning the photo to the onboard computer. "Looks like I'm going shoe shopping," he laughed.

1 ***Flame of the Divine (i.e. Divine Flame)


	3. Chapter 2: The Stakeout

**Chapter Two**

"The Red Dragon's having a tea party at 9 o' clock, then less than an hour later, the place is full of bullet holes, swarming with cops, and closed off to the public. Blade was there," Panther spoke, banging his fists on the table. They were in the war room, he and the other three squad members of Vici. Their leader, Panther, stood tall, addressing them all. The group of vampire hunters didn't take their eyes off him, such was the authority in his voice. The large oval table vibrated in response, and the other three members fastened their gazes even tighter on him, if that was even conceivable. "We need to take action, as soon as possible."

"How about we take action now?" Angela followed up, and for a moment Panther's eyes scoped more than just a teammate he'd gladly throw down his life for. Her body was toned and athletic, her light caramel skin glistening slightly with sweat. Angela had her hair pulled back into a long ponytail, sharp crescent bangs framing her face beautifully. He almost drowned in her light brown eyes and when they locked onto his, she blushed and then masked it so quickly that neither Kokei nor Trigger knew what was going on. It was, however, no mystery that the two of them were more than just friends. A glint of silver dragged his eyes to her exposed belly button, and as hard as it was, Panther tore his eyes back to her face. "Blade has hit several establishments in the past few weeks, all in this area of downtown New York." She stood up, pointing downward to the center of the table.

A holographic map of the Nexus appeared in neon green and levitated before Angela's fingertips. Pulsing blue circles in a precise zigzag pattern marked each of Blade's assault zones in the past two months. Her light fingers slid over the hologram, connecting the circles with a bright yellow line that followed her movements.

"I've predicted, with 85% accuracy that the next place he'll be is here." Angela touched a building, ensnaring it with a yellow circle. It was the famous nightclub, Lotus. "It's only logical. The club is practically famous for being a vampire hot spot, open every night, with an exclusive guest list. That's our target." She waved away the hologram, until there was nothing left but the giant oval table. Finally, she sat down and looked at each of them in turn. "What do you guys think?"

"I say let's blow that muthafucka up." Trigger was the first to respond. He was a lanky character with a silver tongue, but exceptionally fit for a 45 year old man. He continued to speak, while affectionately polishing his sniper rifle. "All of the logistics point there, and wherever Blade has been getting his information leads him in a concrete pathway. Honestly, I'm surprised the cops haven't caught onto this just yet." Trigger polished his sniper rifle one final time, before cocking it. "Besides, even if Blade doesn't show up, there's guaranteed to be a showdown where we can bust some skulls."

"We have to stake it out," Aiden put bluntly, his disagreement with the direct method obvious. He was looking in Trigger's direction even though a dark black band sealed his vision. Aiden was blind, that's why his nickname was Kokei, meaning 'one lacking sight.' "We don't know which day Blade will choose to go to Lotus and it could be awhile before he moves again, given the scale of the Chinatown incident. Did you see how quickly SPECS arrived this time? They're definitely responding faster than usual to paranormal activities in the city. If we act too hastily, we could end up on the wrong side of their weapons."

"You're telling me," Trigger sighed as if he knew a secret gained from personal experience. "They used to be a group of slow responding bastards that didn't even know what their job entailed half the fucking time."

Panther nodded his head at Kokei, ignoring Trigger's sentiment. "I have a cousin who lives around that way; I can get us reservations to the hotel across the street and arrange it so that our suite overlooks Lotus's entrance." Though his face held a cocky grin, his team nodded in respect. Angela beamed at him with admiration. "Of course, we'll need names that are on the roster for Lotus and a way to get in." Panther continued. Trigger gave him an intense smile, and rose out of his seat. The spotlight was on him.

"Leave getting in to me," he said, grinning. He pulled out two small vials that resembled under-sized glow sticks. Each vial contained a moderate amount of bloody red liquid. He cracked one dramatically and instantaneously, fangs filled his mouth. Trigger's eyes also glowed red, though to the others in the room, it was clear that he was still human. "They're called Vampa-Trans. Lame name, I know; however, they definitely get the job done. Made by SPECS themselves. I tried copying the original design as best I could. Only came up with two though, sorry." Trigger cracked the vial back to its original position and the fangs vanished. His eyes also normalized. "These completely mask us to most vampire eyes, so getting past a bouncer will be a cakewalk." He tossed one to Panther, who caught it and put it in his pocket. "We've got a plan," Trigger assured Angela, whose face was one of bewilderment at there being only two Vampa-Trans. Panther then dismissed the meeting. Everyone left the table, but Panther called Aiden back.

"What is it leader?" The blind man asked, gesturing with his hands as though his vision was 20/20. Panther smirked and clapped a hand on his shoulder, walking him toward the rec room.

"Are you up for a little sparring match?" He inquired excitedly.

They entered the training room, taking off their shoes and standing across from each other on a humongous red gym mat, which spanned most of the rec room's floor. Aiden must have read his mind, or sensed the question on his face, because moments later, he handed Panther a nicely polished bokken1**, taking one of the same style off a wall rack for himself. They both bowed in unison, and though Panther was ready to go, Kokei spoke up.

"I'll tell you right now why you will lose," he spoke, his voice soft as if he was explaining addition to a toddler. "You lack the fifth element, spirit. All my life I have been building that up in unison with the other four elements: fire, water, earth and air. To this day, I have mastered secret techniques of every weapon style, of every weapon class and though the naginata2** remains my favorite, you can't hope to defeat me with that bokken. I see you're serious though. Very well, make sure to use all of the elements. Start with water, the gift of blood that runs through your veins. Next, use air, the precious breath that keeps you alive. Add fire, your mind and its drives and passions that move your being. Lastly earth, your physical body, the housing for both your inner and outer strengths. However, I admonish you again, come at me with only these, and your defeat is inevitable."

Panther nodded, though inside, the lecture had almost bored him to sleep. He understood what Aiden meant about spirit, the fifth element, but he also knew that Kokei was wrong about assuming that he didn't have enough of it. "The rules are simple, if your five limbs get cut, it's a loss, and if your heart gets pierced, same thing." Kokei's confident face depicted an acceptance of the terms. They bowed in tandem with each other, muttering ganbatte3*** before taking their stances, Aiden's looking extremely professional. Panther's style was less rigid, and self-constructed.

"Secret technique: Sebunsodo4****," Aiden cried out, and with a singular slash that appeared, then disappeared, a bright light temporarily filled the room, forcing Panther's eyes closed. The clash of wood resounded off the walls. A gust of wind from the immense force lifted Panther off his feet, and slammed him into the ground hard, almost a yard away. He hit the ground with a tremendous impact, the air temporarily vanishing from his lungs. Instantly, Aiden crossed the distance between them, and stabbed the sword down.

Panther turned his sword lengthwise, and then used the side to absorb the impact, protecting his body. He flicked his wrist forward, and Kokei stumbled, directly into one of his size ten Nikes. It was his turn now. Abandoning his sword, he leaned back on the weight of his hands, and crushed Kokei's gut with both of his feet. Swiftly moving so that he was on his feet, Panther scooped up the bokken and ran toward his downed opponent. Aiden rolled to avoid his next strike, which clapped noisily on the mat. Extending his own leg, he forced Panther to retreat, less he fall prey to a sweep kick.

That same grin crept across Aiden's face. "Sebunsodo," he cried again. This time the blinding light flashed before Aiden swung the bokken, filling the entire room again. All Panther heard was a rush of air, before a sharp pain sliced across his stomach, blasting him backward. He barely maintained his balance, his counter practically worthless. "Not exactly one of your limbs, but you see my point about spirit," Aiden grinned, walking toward Panther confidently. The comment both provoked and annoyed Panther at the same time.

He had to do something. While it wasn't an actual battle situation, losing to Kokei would be just as bad as losing a limb in real life. He somehow needed to find the trick in Kokei's Sebunsodo attack. Nevertheless, he wasn't going to spend all his time defending. Initially holding the wooden blade at his side, he quickly feinted, then cut across Kokei's arm with a forceful blow. Shocked, his opponent staggered for a second, but that was enough time for Panther to dodge a return strike, and land one of his own on Kokei's other exposed arm.

"That's two limbs out of five," he smirked, neatly blocking a strike aimed angrily at his head. Panther could feel the rage emanating from Kokei's body and he would use that to his advantage as much as possible.

"Sebunsodo!" Aiden shouted again, this time lashing out with his foot, which Panther caught by jack-knifing his arms up against his chest. He hadn't planned for the next move though. As per usual, there was a blinding flash of light; however, when Panther's feet were no longer on the ground, he could only groan when his form crashed into the ground. Panther bit his the inside of his cheek painfully, causing it to bleed, even though his own bokken remained in his hands. He looked up at Kokei, who was chuckling. "I believe we're even now." Aiden stated matter-of-factly now that both of Panther's legs had been attacked.

Panther closed his eyes. Perhaps sight was his weakness here. He tried to stand motionless, to not give away his position to the blind swordsman opposite him, but that simply wasn't enough. Whether it was the scent of the sweat that made his shirt stick to him, or the sound of his controlled breathing, Kokei still knew exactly where he was and thus was still able to attack him efficiently. Panther matched him blow for blow, concentrating more on his footwork than actually blocking the wooden blade. Fatigue slowly washed over them both, and after fifteen more minutes of neck and neck combat, Panther was ahead, four limbs to three. All he had to do was hit Kokei in the head, while Kokei still needed to strike his left arm and his head.

Panther realized precious minutes ago that closing his eyes and going toe-to-toe with Kokei wasn't going to be enough. Even odder, after his last Sebunsodo attack, Kokei hadn't used the move anymore, instead it seemed like he was actually fighting more seriously, if that was possible. Panther, gritted his teeth just as a brilliant idea came into his head. Why didn't he give Sebunsodo a try? He still had two limbs to figuratively lose and was on the verge of winning anyway. He ducked, and one of Kokei's strikes clacked the brick wall behind him. Circling around, Panther aimed for Kokei's vulnerable back, but in one smooth move, his attack was parried. In the next instant, Kokei's shoulder roughly slammed into his chest, pushing him back.

A little angry himself, Panther pulled back the blade, just as he'd seen Kokei do in the beginning of their match. "Sebunso-," before he could finish the word, Kokei's bokken viciously hammered his face so forcefully that he fell to the ground, landing on his back. He felt like he'd been hit with a crowbar. Panther could swear there was a large, round bruise on his cheek the size of a grapefruit. He tried to push himself upward, but it was too difficult. Before he could fall back down, he felt the gentlest tap on his left arm.

"Game." Kokei whispered, leaving the room without another word.

A few minutes later, Panther was nursing his cheek in his private chamber. His huge, midnight black panther named E-Bon was laying lazily on the African print rug at the foot of the bed. Panther had to chuckle as the huge beast yawned, revealing razor-sharp silver fangs. He let himself fall back onto his king sized bed, adorned with royal purple sheets. His golden pillows cushioned his fall. At the same time, Panther heard his door open, and looked up.

"Are you okay?" Angela asked, stepping into the room. While his face had hardened due to the intrusion, Panther immediately relaxed once she shut the door behind her. Even E-Bon, who respectfully guarded Panther's privacy as well, went back to lightly dozing after giving Angela a once over. Panther sat up, propping himself up against his wooden headboard, directly over a lion pouncing on a gazelle. Panther refused to ignore it when her eyes fell over his naked torso, then went back to his face. Her golden hoop earrings reflected his face in them, and if he looked hard enough, he could see himself in her honey brown eyes. She sat down next to him, pulling out a small icepack and dabbing it against his cheek.

"I'm fine Angel," he replied, though hissing at the transient pain that accompanied the wound. "We just really need to get out there more. Training exercises day in and day out aren't anything compared to real life. We've been doing tons of recon and strategizing and it's not like I doubt you guys, but we can't stay sharp as a team if we're not doing anything. There's innocent people out there dying every night because of the vampires that plague this city. Blade's one of them, and he never takes the time to relax." Panther huffed out, blushing shortly afterward, because of her musical laughter.

"You're human, not a day-walker," Angela emphasized seductively. She then drew a freshly decorated nail down the center of his chest. "You do need time to _relax_." He drew her into an embrace before his face could give away his emotions. He was surely feeling something right now, he just didn't need her to know what that was. She relaxed into his hold, and crooned softly as Panther stroked her hair. While he spoke smooth nonsense into her ear, she sighed and submitted. The vampires would truly win if they were able to take all of the love out of the world, however, whether leader or lover, as long as she had Panther, they would never concede to the never-ending darkness.

"So, you don't find it funny at all that this Squeaks guy is leading us in a completely obvious pattern?" Onyx exhaled sharply, blocking a heavy kick to his kidney. He and Blade circled each other in the boxing ring, tops bare and glistening with sweat. In the background, a hip-hop track by RZA filled the room, emanating from a top-grade Boston Acoustics Sound ware system. When Onyx tried to punch in retaliation, not only was his fist caught, but Blade locked his leg around the center of his calf, and summarily flipped him over it. Onyx banged against the ground, but rose to his feet, banging his red gloves together. On the sidelines, he watched Aisha, perched atop one of the largest bookshelves he had ever seen like a bird of prey. "Doesn't she have anything better to do?" He complained, while Blade struck, and then feinted, causing him to waste energy as Onyx's foot connected with air. Before he could regain his stance, Blade charged him, and before he could defend, he was on the ground again, Blade delivering a crushing knee to his side, though he could tell the strike was restricted in power. It still hurt like hell though.

"The loser is buying me dinner remember?" Aisha called cheerfully from her perch. She laughed happily, dangling her feet over the edge and swinging them like a child. Perhaps it was because she didn't have a home of her own, but being around these two always lifted her spirits. Whether she and Blade had some mutual vampire understanding or not, she knew he understood. Blade also knew that she had access to plenty of information concerning his whereabouts, and his technology. Even if she had been working alongside them directly and indirectly for years, she still considered it a great honor to be trusted by him, because she trusted almost no one, vampires and humans alike and knew that as the famous day-walker, it had to be even harder to do. Absentmindedly, she licked her lips as James stood up, shaking himself back into awareness. It wasn't every day that she could watch two very attractive men in the heat of battle, backs glistening with sweat, teasing and taunting each other. The thought made Aisha's stomach tingle, and she knew she'd have to go out to hunt later. Her current hunger was for more than blood.

"Fuck that," Onyx cursed, squaring up with Blade again. He knew Aisha was the type to choose the most expensive place to eat, for last time an event like this occurred, she forced him to treat her to several full course meals at the well-known fine dining place, the Aureole. "Seriously though man, you don't think SPECS is going to catch onto this? They've been after you for years right?" Onyx landed a solid hook to Blade's jaw, unable to counter though, as Blade delivered one twice as strong in response. Onyx staggered, but managed to stay upright.

"Let them come. I'm just doing my job, one that you two will inherit someday." Blade spoke, stunning Onyx with his words. Aisha turned away, her face heating as she contemplated what he'd said. Before Onyx was able to think too much about it, he was matching Blade's kicks with his own, trying to parry Blade's open handed strikes to his face. "I wouldn't underestimate Squeaks though. While he's a crazy bastard in his own right, his information is solid, and he hasn't betrayed us just yet. Also, don't worry too much about what I said, I don't plan on dying for awhile." At the end of his statement, Onyx landed a few more stomach blows. He weaved back and dodged Blade's fist, ignoring his right leg, which had made a move in advance. In an amazing reversal, Blade tripped Onyx, and then planted his foot in the center of his back. "I suggest you work on your standup game, guns won't always be there to save yo' ass. By the way, I like my steaks well done, and my cocktails extra bloody." He grabbed a nearby white towel made of cotton and headed off toward the showers.

As Onyx stood, his wallet and mouth already groaning, Aisha watched him conspicuously. James ignored her though, grabbing his own towel and walking away. She pouted, and then left the warehouse through a skylight. The air outside was cool and inviting. She wore all of her black hair down now, and it lifted off her shoulders with the wind. As she started to run, familiar sounds of the night kissed her ears. Leaping from the building, she commenced blending in with the shadows themselves, becoming nothing more than a ghost in the bustling city. Perhaps she'd enjoy herself tonight...

"Have we confirmed his shoe size?" Jonathan spoke into the microscopic microphone on his collar. He continued walking forward, never missing a beat. He was extremely grateful to be wearing a thermal sweater, and thick black jeans. The weather was ridiculous in the Nexus this time of year, fluctuating in June from high 80's to low 30's almost every day. It was true that he was still on duty, but it never hurt to dress down once in awhile. Besides, as the Commanding General of SPECS, he could wear whatever he wanted on any given day without fear of incurring punishment. Jonathan approached the grand presence of Pro-Kredz, the largest shoe store in the city. Research proved that this was the only store in the entire state that sold combat boots by Double Decker, the maker of the shoes Blade's accomplice wore. Receipt tracking would be cake, he just needed to pull records from the store's database.

"It's a size 11 ½ boot," Dr. Rashidli's voice trailed back to him. He nodded his head accordingly. There was a much greater chance of tracking this mysterious accomplice than there was Blade, because the vampire-human hybrid rarely left any evidence behind, whether through purchases, or anything else. It frustrated him to no end.

Jonathan walked up to the front door and saw the neon 'Closed' sign. According to his high-tech watch, the store had closed fifteen minutes ago, at midnight. With a sigh, Jonathan prepared to walk back to his snazzy Eclipse, when he felt hot breath on his neck. Slowly, he let his hand drop from the metallic bar on the door. He was already calculating the odds, even though they were clearly stacked in his favor.

"A little late to be out shoe shopping, eh human?" The closest vampire jeered to his buddies. Through the reflection in the glass on the door, Jonathan could see three more vampires closing in and two shady characters swiftly heading toward his car. A sudden shove from his left side had him reeling, and Jonathan staggered to recover his balance. In one lithe move, a wiry man no wider than a toothpick shoved him backward, while removing his watch. He'd have to watch that one.

"You bagged some nice gear there eh Chambers?" The vampire who Jonathan appraised as the leader mocked. His face was pale, and his eyes were outlined in black eye shadow. He had on a dingy brown jacket, with pockets as big as small piggy-banks. The lot of them were dressed up as street hustlers, and his watch was probably the most expensive thing they had ever seen, with the exception of his car, which the other two vampires were trying to break into.

"Don't test me." Jonathan replied darkly, drawing the small semi-circle of eight eyes to him. Faster than his reflexes, the leader backhanded him, and he fell to the sidewalk. One of the bystanders chaffed with his buddies in delight.

"Someone is going to die tonight." He blustered, picking Jonathan up by his collar and forcing him against the door. "But first I'd like your money and your car keys, bitch." Jonathan reeled away from the foul smelling breath, but hid a secret smirk to himself. There was a loud boom, a flurry of motion, and a choked cry. Jonathan straightened up his shirt while the leader turned into smoldering ashes. While his firearm was concealed again, things were just beginning. Chambers made the first move, rushing him, but the watch he had stolen suddenly began screeching. The noise stopped him cold in his tracks, and made him cover his ears, along with the two henchman nearby.

When the two shady vampires farther away heard the shrill noise, they turned away from the luxurious vehicle and stared at the barrel of a shiny, silenced pistol. Jonathan put two bullets between both of their eyes. Only their skulls exploded, leaving the bullet turning into ash as well. His car was unaffected, parked in pristine condition, without any blood or marks on it.

"Fuck it, I'm out man!" Chambers screamed, fleeing the scene. Lackadaisically, Jonathan pistol whipped another attacker, and shot directly through his neck while he fell. The same bullet arced in the air, and pierced Chambers's ankle, dropping him to the asphalt like a rock. He let one of the vampires escape, while walking toward Chambers. His footsteps echoed in the empty parking lot, and the main street seemed miles away from the scene.

"You have something of mine," he addressed, holding out his palm. Chambers was on the ground shaking violently, a cold sweat engulfing his body. He couldn't speak, and his body continued trembling while he slowly extracted the watch from his wrist and returned it. Free from the state of agony wearing the watch had put him under, Chambers stopped shaking, and started to stand, until a fat muzzle aligned with his vision. Jonathan pulled the trigger without another thought, incinerating Chambers's entire body. Though he didn't smoke, he plucked a cigarette from Chambers's pocket before it torched, and lit it with Chambers's remains. He replaced the modified blunderbuss back in its invisible holster on his person, and blew a thick cloud of smoke into the air.

"I'll have to try back tomorrow," Syfy informed Dr. Rashidli over the mic, who was already compiling statistics based on the fight that had only occurred minutes ago. She also through in a miniature lecture about lung cancer, which he ignored.

"You let one escape," Dr. Rashidli rambled. "Also, there's another vampire, a female in the immediate area who is watching you this very second."

"Let her watch," Jonathan spoke up, louder than normal. He stamped out his cigarette, while glancing along the rooftops. His vision was only slightly less than perfect, but he couldn't see anything. Finally, he sighed, and headed back to his vehicle. He closed the door to his car and sped off into the night, his sports tires kicking up a small film of rocks as he left the vacant lot.

"That last gun...a flintlock pistol, firing shotgun shells," Aisha observed, watching the expensive car re-enter the highway and disappear from view. She hadn't bothered to pursue Ricky, a small time thief that she knew by name. Honestly, she wouldn't have minded if the cop had killed Ricky in cold blood. Aisha was curious to what he was doing here though, at a shoe store in the dead of night. While she didn't know his name, she recognized his face easily from earlier, though he wasn't in uniform. She never forgot faces. Aisha was most drawn to the coldness that accompanied his calculating persona. If she didn't know any better, she would swear that every move he'd made tonight, including letting Ricky escape, was planned from the moment Vector had approached him from behind. Since she was leaning on the side of Pro-Kredz, she walked into the parking lot herself, taking a long sniff of the air. Adrenaline, she noted. While watching him, Aisha ascertained that even while flawlessly executing his moves, there was something else behind that man. Perhaps it was fear, perhaps it was fascination, or maybe it was a mixture of both that drove his actions. Regardless, she would discover what it was for herself. Glancing at the sky, she realized that it was a short time past midnight and that she had a date to attend, free of charge. With one fleeting glance of the scene, she took off into a sprint, unaware of the store camera which followed her every move.

"Shit is nice!" Trigger exclaimed, throwing himself backward through the air, and onto an extremely soft king-sized bed. He grabbed a beer out of the mini-fridge nearby, and took a healthy swig. "I could get used to this." He laid back and sighed. "Best digs outside the base that I've stayed in...shoot I don't even remember my last time being holed up this sweetly."

The rest of the group laughed, even Kokei gave Panther a fist pound. While the other two chatted it up, he and Angela were looking outside of the curtains, and down on Lotus. From the outside, it looked closed down and abandoned, especially in the middle of the day. Civilians walked right past it as if it didn't exist, continuing on with their schedules. But at nighttime, ancient vampire glyphs would coat the building, marking it distinctly as vampire territory. Panther hoped it would work out. They would start taking shifts as soon as the club opened at ten that night, and rotate sleeping periods until someone confirmed Blade's entry. It was a tricky business, but true to his character, Trigger had managed to smuggle in some of their tech. Even if their eyes weren't vigilant enough to spot Blade, computers hardly lied. The miniature cameras they had set up were of the highest quality, and could even pick up sound from a quarter of a mile away.

Angela walked away from the window, flipping open her cream-colored Toshiba laptop. In seconds, she had started up a playlist on iTunes full of hardcore club music. She danced with Kokei, who was surprisingly good at it for a blind man. Trigger bopped his head while working on draining his third beer. Panther enjoyed the camaraderie, but remained vigilant. He still had a plan to enact and carefully at that. While it was cool that Jeff had remained true to his word and had gotten them the requested suite for at least five days, there was more. Something was bothering him, but he didn't know what. Panther watched an old woman walking a dog across an intersection. This brought his mind to the plan at hand and he sighed. Panther had no clue how Angela and Kokei would take it when he told them that only he and Trigger had fake names on the guest-list. Even worse, when they were entering the club, the duo would have to pretend that their honorable teammates were merely food to them and nothing more. Despite the idea of walking Angela around on a leash producing a pleasing fantasy, he knew that she wouldn't take kindly to being demoralized. Idly, Panther placed his hand on the glass.

"Now, we wait." He spoke with finality.

1* A wooden sword (Can also be used for the plural)

2 **A naginata is a Japanese weapon whose base is a long, spear-like staff. It has thick, sharp blade at the tip

3 ***This is Japanese for 'Good luck!'

4 ****If you say it correctly, you can hear it. This is Japanese for Seven Swords.


	4. Chapter 3: Vampire Within

**Chapter Three**

"So what's the deal?" Blade asked, only lowering his shades for a second. Fangs crested in his mouth, making him a truly menacing sight. Squeaks was used to this though. He had red hair that pulled back into a ponytail, with a large bald spot in the center. He was short and pudgy, with sharp circular glasses that clung closely to his face. Whenever he smiled, it was evident that his skills in personal hygiene lacked.

"The nightclub Lotus. There's been lots of activity there lately," Squeaks informed, leaning back against a dusty counter. They were meeting in an antique shop called Ron's Priceless Gems that had long since closed down. Squeaks scratched his fat neck with a nervous hand. Perhaps he wasn't so used to Blade's glare, even though he'd been the day-walker's informant for several years; he couldn't help but erupt in a cold sweat. Though he knew Blade to be somewhat peaceful, fear sank its claws into his stomach.

"And this pattern you're clearly leading us in, what the fuck is up with that?" Onyx asked, banging his fist on a nearby table. The piece of furniture wobbled dangerously, as if another blow would have it crumbling into pieces. Onyx started to pace, frustration clear as day on his face. As Squeaks turned toward the relatively new face, some of his fear vanished. This guy was dressed like a hoodlum, and Squeaks had dealt with much more treacherous foes than that in his lifetime, both human and vampire. He adjusted his glasses artfully, but flinched when seeing Blade's expectant face.

"Well, more drug activity has been going on in the immediate area. You know, human trafficking, blood transfers, illegal trade..." Squeaks choked. Blade lifted him off the floor by the collar of his shirt, easily lifting the small man six inches off the ground.

"What's really going on? Or do I have to expose your little underground ring of whores?" Blade asked, his tone deadly. Squeaks gulped nervously. He indubitably got the message. Blade dropped him into a pathetic mess onto the floor. Brushing off imaginary dirt and pretending to be unfazed, Squeaks, straightened himself up, appearing only slightly taller. He took his glasses off, wiping the lenses with the tail of his Final Fantasy shirt. When he looked up at them again, his voice was entirely serious.

"Word on the street is that the owner of Lotus, a vampire named Jason Normandy, is in possession of an...extremely rare shield. In fact, its combat ability has earned Jason the nickname El Escudo." Squeaks explained.

"He's got a Spanish nickname, so what?" Onyx interrupted.

"Shut up." Blade viciously barked, silencing his subordinate.

"Well, in certain communities, Blade is known as La Espada, aka the sword. It's no secret that Blade's skill with a certain double-edged weapon is legendary in the vampire world. Imagine a shield with the same capabilities: Jason has that. What's stranger than that is Jason doesn't leave Lotus—ever. This isn't some kind of vampire thing either, he simply doesn't leave Lotus. He always has familiars hanging around to get everything done. In fact, according to rumors, it's been a long time since anyone has even seen Jason's face. Lastly, to make things even creepier, rumor has it that the shield belongs to a fabled vampire named Vladimir, who's supposed to be a descendant of Dracula himself." Squeaks ended by pushing his glasses back on his face and scooping up a graphic novel entitled 'Gunslinger Girl'. "You ain't hear shit from me," he concluded, waddling his way out of the door.

"Can we really trust that guy?" Onyx said, glancing at Blade ten minutes later. They were walking through a city block in the Nexus, contemplating their next move. "And what did you mean by an underground ring of whores? They got a brothel down the street that the cops are definitely aware of, and they're still up and running."

Blade shook his head, suddenly finding the idea of solitude very pleasing. To be blunt, Onyx had been annoying him all day. Blade wished Aisha was here to distract him. Instead, he turned toward Onyx and answered, as politely as possible. "Squeaks hasn't betrayed us just yet, and he's been working for me almost six years now. Sure he's leading us in a concrete pattern, but if you remember, SPECS has been after me for at least a decade, and they haven't been able to pin me down. As for the whores, let's put it like this: Squeaks is a major player an underground gladiatorial ring. Female vampires fight, often to the death, while patrons gamble, drink, and party. He's gotten quite rich placing bets, but it's also the best well of information in this city. It goes beyond a simple brothel, it is a blood sport, and illegal on all counts. However, that's only one of the reasons why Squeaks is a genius. Obviously, you've noticed that he's completely human, and yet he hasn't been killed, for neither his money, nor his connections. He's got it set up so well that his riches and connections give him power over vampires. For someone...of his character, you've gotta admit the boy must be doing something right." Blade finished.

Onyx nodded his head, and began thinking to himself. While part of him wanted to ask Blade more about the underground ring, he stayed quiet. Blade was wondering when would be an appropriate time to attack this vampire named Jason and how to get him alone in one of the most popular nightclubs in the Nexus. Already the task of assassinating Jason would require more work than he'd initially thought. While he trusted at least the majority of Squeaks's information to be true, it was also certain that he and Onyx could be traced. If he remembered correctly, the last few places he'd swept through—thoroughly annihilating drug rings, smugglers, and vampire lords—all formed a specific zigzag pattern. Each new place was somewhere between ten and fifteen miles from the last, making a potential prediction of his next appearance extremely easy. He would have to be careful. SPECS was getting sharper, even though Blade wasn't going to go down without a helluva fight. Their response time was becoming quicker, especially to gun related crimes. In the past, it had taken at least thirty minutes for an adequate team to arrive and handle the situation. The Red Dragon event hadn't lasted twenty minutes. In addition, last time he'd checked, there wasn't such a shrewd man in charge. His approach was absolutely new from past police raids. Whoever was in command knew exactly what they were doing, and how to maximize efficiency per unit. Perhaps Blade would need to do some more training.

"Last one back to base does three-hundred pushups for an audience at NYU!" Onyx yelled, bursting into a sprint. While Blade thought it completely childish, he wouldn't let an opportunity pass to crush his opponent's morale. Fading into the shadows, he laughed deeply with a fanged grin. Once a loser, always a loser.

"Run that by me again," Jonathan commanded, fingers eagerly punching keys. He'd gotten direct access to Pro-Kredz's database simply by flashing a badge.

"Are you listening to me Syfy?" Dr. Rashidli asked, an impatient tone in her voice. She idly tapped her nails on her desk, waiting for him to answer.

"Sure am, sugar," Syfy answered, tapping f12. Every purchase within the last three months flashed on screen, including cash totals and card numbers. Syfy started scrolling, filtering with his mind, first of all size 11½ shoe purchases, then purchases of size 11½ combat boots. It was more difficult that it appeared.

Over thirty miles away, in a heavily fortified laboratory, Dr. Rashidli blushed. He knew that calling her sugar threw her off guard. She tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear, turning away from him. Instead of thinking about it, she repeated her last statement. "The boot had to be purchased at least six weeks ago, the soles are quite worn, even though the overall condition of the boot is excellent. It's seen heavy usage."

Jonathan sighed, realizing that a store manager was watching his every move. However, the speed in which he pressed keys, and the shock on the manager's face showed that his computer skills outclassed the man on his own system. When he pressed f4 and the exact date of April 2nd, 2060 popped up, with the complete details of the purchase, including the full name of the store cashier that had rang up the boots, Jonathan tried to suppress hysterical laughter. The manager had exclaimed wow, while making a gasp fitting the situation. In seconds, the printed receipt was in his hand.

Syfy held his watch up to the receipt, and a glowing blue light passed over it. Within a breath, he knew Dr. Rashidli had the exact copy pulled up on her quad-monitor setup. "Run a check on the card number, let's hope we can ID him." Jonathan turned to leave, pressing three keys to reset the system. He shook the manager's hand. "I suggest an update in the near future Steve," Jonathan admonished. "The firewall was down before I even logged in, and cyber-crime has been rising exponentially in the city." Jonathan lifted a hand and waved, although he was leaving the office, and ultimately the building.

"She's there again," Dr. Rashidli whispered. Her radar had a blue-white dot less than five yards away from him. It made her uneasy, especially since this was the same signature left the last time Syfy was at Pro-Kredz. She remembered watching the surveillance video of the young, but beautiful vampire examining the scene. Her looks aside, Dr. Rashidli could tell that she was an experienced killer. It only shattered her nerves further when the vampire took a heavy sniff of the area, kicked some of the small piles of ashes remaining, and walked exactly where Jonathan's Eclipse had been parked, placing her palm on the ground with her eyes closed. She whispered another warning to Syfy, as if the vampire on her radar could hear her.

Jonathan scanned the area, but there was nothing but sunlight as far as he could see. How a vampire managed to be that close, invisible, and in this much sunlight, confounded him.

Aisha's eyes narrowed. For a split second, she swore she saw him look directly at her, but perhaps it was a trick of her eyes. In the next nanosecond he was scanning everything around him, consulting his watch devotedly. She heard him say Onyx's real name—James. Listening closer, she was able to surmise the purpose of the call. SPECS had changed their focus from Blade to Onyx, and were now going to try to use him to find Blade. Aisha cursed, sinking down to the ground as the cop's vision shot back in her direction.

Her blood raced through her veins as he got closer and closer to the alley in which she crouched. She could hear a female voice ticking off her distance from him as he got closer, refusing to walk away. What the hell did he want with her? Why would he approach her willingly, unafraid? Aisha sighed, feeling the Chi flow through her body. Opening her eyes, she prepared to mind-lock, which would temporarily stun the cop, allowing her to escape. However, when she opened her eyes again, he was still unaware of her presence.

"Where are you?" He spoke, though his voice was much too gentle. Aisha didn't know why, but she wanted to reach out and touch him. She wasn't stupid though. "What's your name?" The tall man walked right past her. Aisha almost trembled. She could smell the metallic pistol on his person. The rounds were what scared her most. There was something new about them...something blurring the lines between merciful death and unimaginable torture for her race. Channeling her Chi into her fingertips, she pointed a purple nail at the man, and shorted his microphone instantly. Then, she blended with the shadows, running at full speed until she reached Blade's hideout.

Syfy sighed, scratching his head. He had no idea who the schoolgirl was, but he knew a vampire when he saw one. The only problem was, why didn't he kill her when he had the chance? There was nothing at all familiar about her, yet he'd hesitated. Did he see something in her eyes? Calmly fixing his microphone, he had no choice but to wonder the same about her. Surely the vampire would have attacked him when he went into the shadows? The last enigma was in her mind trick. Though he was looking at garbage dumps and gutters, there was no mistaking her sudden concentration, and the tiny short circuit happening right after in his microphone. Curiosity tore at him. Syfy remotely drowned out Dr. Rashidli's comments and assessment of the situation. He rotated the frame of his watch and spoke into it. "Get me Dr. N please, status report."

Jonathan climbed back into his car, which synced with his watch immediately. Above the dashboard, the hologram face of an old, Asian man appeared. "Dr. N copy, what do you need Syfy?" He asked, abandoning formal titles for a friendly conversation.

"Research anything you can on psychological attacks. Psy-bombs, Telekinesis, anything of that nature. Focus strictly on vampire activity, and client-host attacks."

"Beginning research now, sir. I'll have the best quality information on your desk by the time you get here. Drive safely." Dr. N concluded. His hologram disappeared from the dashboard. Syfy laughed. Drive safely was only one of the things that he and Dr. N joked about. Since the acclaimed scientist's invention of Trak-Automatic, the phrase was a moot point regardless.

"Playlist, Contemporary Hip-Hop," Syfy voiced, his car complying, as he crested 100 miles per hour, lights flashing. He'd just received a distress call from Harlem and was heading there, radioing backup with the push of a button. "Why's this so urgent?" He asked the steering wheel absently, zooming down the winding road.

"They're tracking you!" Aisha yelled, pacing the floor angrily. She wondered where Blade had gone out of the blue, but currently she was focused on arguing with this blockhead.

"By my shoe Aisha? Get real. Blade and I cleared the Red Dragon faster than lightning. You tryna tell me that we got caught on security cameras?" Onyx reasoned, only serving to make Aisha even madder. Though not quite at his shoulders standing full height, she had both hands on her hips, mouth in a scowl. He thought she was almost cute, almost.

"You idiot, who do you think these guys are anyway? They aren't mall cops Onyx. I've been watching the general from the other night. Today, he definitely was talking about tracking you by those boots that you've been wearing for six fucking months!" Aisha hollered. She was so frustrated that she sped up her pacing, hands clenched at her sides into shaking fists. If she had to, she'd knock the shit out of him.

He didn't know how she knew how long he had been wearing his favorite combat boots, but James was quite pissed himself. Aisha was basically saying that he was a weak link on the team, and that because of his screw up they could be found out. "What else did you find out about him huh? Do you know the color of his underwear? Jesus, why don't you try being reasonable at all? He's a general. I doubt you could even get close enough to kill him with your katanas, much less get close enough to suck him off, oh, I meant eavesdrop." Onyx added dryly, crossing his arms over his chest. No sooner than the words left his mouth, he realized that he'd struck a nerve. At first anger roiled over Aisha's face so quickly that blood rose to the surface. Her entire body quaked with fury.

Next, all of that went away, and her shoulders slumped. Onyx wasn't sure why Aisha didn't reply sardonically, but he knew he won the argument. She turned away from him with an expletive. There was no heart in it however, and the words died soon after she uttered them.

"Children, please." Blade commented, dropping from the ceiling, landing between them. He removed his shades and gave Onyx a stern look. "When are you gonna learn how to actually treat a woman?" Blade asked, his tone slapping Onyx harder than the implied insult itself. Blade walked over to Aisha and placed a hand on her back. It quivered twice, as if she was crying, but when she turned to face Onyx again, her eyes were dry and blood red. She hissed, spit flying from her mouth as fangs took their natural place there. Onyx jumped when Blade hissed as well, and started circling him like a predator.

"Blade...Aisha, stop this," he stuttered, voice quivering. He reached down for his lower pocket, but remembered that he was unarmed. In the time it took him to do that and glance back up, both vampires were circling him, hissing. James's eyes darted to and fro, looking for something to defend himself with, but there was nothing within reach. If he could sprint about fifty meters, he could grab hold of at least three guns, but because of their intimidating semi-circle, that was impossible. With each revolution, they got closer to him. Aisha lunged directly at him, and doubled back when he swung at her. Onyx whipped around to see Blade jump into the sky, and land somewhere above him in the rafters. With the low lighting of the warehouse, even squinting, he could only follow Blade by his footsteps. From the corner of his eye, he watched Aisha circle him, and when she reached the point furthest from him, he mentally decided.

James turned and bolted for his life. The second he made the choice, Aisha simultaneously trailed him, roaring. A cocky grin broke out on his face, until Blade dropped from the roof and landed in front of his guns, forcing him to retreat. Adrenaline pumping, James didn't take much time to make up his mind again. Rather than taking on Blade, he'd confront Aisha head on. With a controlled step, he turned and kicked into nothingness. Aisha wasn't even behind him anymore, even though her constant hissing bounced around in his head, disorientating him.

The move was so easy because he had dozens of openings. Aisha cut across his field of vision to purposely draw his eyes, and torso, then attacked his legs and dropped him. Seamlessly, she mounted James, and choked him with one hand, grating her teeth along his face lightly, dripping saliva onto him.

"Do it bitch, bite me, you'll die, do it!" James threatened, voice rising a few octaves with the rush of hysteria. Aisha was unmoved, especially since he was trembling. Aisha's nails grew longer, sharp enough to break skin effortlessly. This ended his struggling, and pumped the aromatic scents of adrenaline and fear into the air. This made her laugh cruelly, accidentally crushing his windpipe a little harder. Onyx gagged and then whimpered when he could finally draw a full breath. Aisha stood up, and smiled.

"I think he gets the point now Blade," she spoke happily.

Blade, laughing himself, strode over and lightly kicked Onyx in the side. The mix of shock, fear, and surprise on his face was priceless. He wished he had a camera. "Don't worry about it. The info that they got is all wrong," Blade said with a smile. Aisha looked at him a question in her eyes. "Watch." Blade held a marble in his hand, then dropped it, and a perfect holographic copy of himself appeared, crossing its arms to mirror Blade. He dropped another marble, and there was Onyx, except instead of the all black combat boots that he usually wore, he had on tan boots with a mysterious logo on the side.

"What kind of boots are those?" Onyx asked, pointing. "All my shit's imported from Norway." Blade laughed, Onyx sounded like a stuck-up girl.

"These are quid-pro-quo combat boots made by only one store in the Nexus, Pro-Kredz. Now check this. SPECS busts into the Red Dragon. Obviously, since the place has no video cameras set up, someone from SPECS has gotta be taking pictures of the scene some kind of way before the news crew shows up. My best guess would be that they're taking pictures through their weapons. Imagine how efficient it would be to ID a fleeing target if you could get crystal-clear shots of them by aiming at them. It's the exact kind of thing SPECS would have engineered and made a standard for all cops." Blade let this sink in before continuing. "Once the guns start being raised, I drop one of these babies and keep on bookin. It's no secret what I look like, but what could they tag on two trench coat wearing vigilantes? Since I was ahead, and am already famous, it didn't matter, but by Onyx being in the back, naturally they'd trace him by his shoes. Knowing SPECS, they'd go to Pro-Kredz, lookup the purchase, and try to find his name based on the credit card that was used, since these boots ain't cheap. Wrong boots, wrong name." Blade bowed slowly, concluding the explanation.

"But I heard him say James!" Aisha blurted.

"Not James Carter, no way in hell," Blade grinned. He saw triumph gleam on James's face. Blade could tell that he was remembering Aisha's accusations. "And before you start acting like an ass, step yo shit up Onyx, they can really track you. SPECS won't hesitate to come kill us the first chance they get." That killed the mood. "But lighten up, because tonight we're hittin' Lotus, and we're getting that shield."

"This babe is still a beaut," Kyle spoke, brandishing Blade's long sword. In preparation for the coming attack, Blade had visited his personal weapon smith to restock on ammunition. Engineering wasn't really his strong suit, and Onyx wasn't a mechanical genius by far. Kyle pressed a hidden button, and the four spiny protrusions retracted into the blade. He lifted it to test its weight, and then oddly used it to cut off the ends of his extra-long mustache. The cut was so clean that every strand of hair left on his face remained even. Kyle frowned, and Blade copied him. "It's getting heavier. The blade itself is aging, even though it's in pristine condition. You must realize that without certain conditions, it has already reached its maximum potential, and grows weaker every time you use it." Kyle analyzed, performing a practice slash. Wind from the strike whipped a piece of blank paper into the air, and Kyle sliced it into near-perfect fourths, carefully placing the sword back on the counter.

Quietly, Blade sheathed his weapon, shaking his head as he did so. "You know I can't meet those conditions," Blade admitted. Kyle placed a box of UV grenades on the counter-top, then pulled out a fancy 10mm gun. "The dogs are going for ankles again Blade," Kyle spoke cryptically, turning his back to the day-walker. He appeared thirty years older, even though he was only 35. While his back was turned, Blade eyed Kyle's Rokudan1. As far as he knew, Kyle was the only Ninjutsu black belt in the state, more or less the country. His story was a long and difficult one. Blade turned his thoughts to more immediate events. He took the new guns from the counter and placed them in a silver briefcase, making sure to stuff several boxes of ammunition for each weapon into his coat. He'd possibly be by later for more. When Kyle turned back to face him, his eyes flashed orange, before returning to their normal dull green color. "If you get the chance, tell Aisha that her blades are due for a checkup." His smile returned, lightening the mood considerably, releasing the built up tension in the atmosphere.

"Sure thing," Blade replied, a loud golden bell ringing as he exited the store. Kyle stayed smiling even after Blade left on his motorcycle, wondering how long it would be before Blade accepted his true destiny.

Blade parked his flashy, black motorcycle in the drive-in garage near the Seneca River. This base was one of fifteen that he owned in the Nexus, each having its own perks. In addition to this one being both scenic, and guarded by a waterfront, it was the base best protected from the inside with the most complex structure. It could become a complete labyrinth to anyone not familiar with the internal layout, making a surprise attack impossible. After bypassing several streams of security, Blade called to the open air for everyone to be ready at 11pm that night. Blade went straight into his room. Sitting on the cold, hard floor, he began meditating, his sword lying flat in front of him. As he did so, the temperature in the room dramatically increased, until sweat started dripping down Blade's forehead.

Behind his closed lids, Blade saw faces, thousands of faces. While there was no sound, most of them were in motion, pointing, screaming, and laughing. The faces blended together, and then separated, forcing him to address them individually, even though there were a multitude of boys, women, and children staring back at him. One by one a shining silver blade made them disappear. He started twitching, as shadows moved within the room. Even though his eyes were still closed, Blade's hand was ready to grab the unsheathed blade at a moment's notice. "Why?" Blade opened his eyes, when his mother's face screamed the word. His pulse skipped a beat, then resumed racing. Her mangled face burned itself bright in his memory, whether he liked it or not. The room was still empty though his eyes darted left and right nervously. He couldn't see her, but Blade knew Aisha was watching, somewhere. She always watched him, indifferent to the struggle he was experiencing.

Blade pulled out a carefully crafted mouth guard, and bit down on it. It was one of the only relics that reminded him of his late mentor Whistler, who Blade never believed was dead. The man couldn't be gone. It was the only truth he refused to fully accept. The mouthpiece's strike was quick and painful to his tongue, the injected antibodies coursing through his body in minutes. His yell echoed off the walls and maliciously back into his ears. Involuntarily, his hand shot out and tightly grabbed his sword. Blade's eyes flickered red, and he struggled to hear beyond the four walls of his room, to no avail. His scream still bounced around in his brain, but he was finally able to stand on his own. Huffing, Blade starting practicing, slicing the air in wide, dangerous strokes. After an hour, he wasn't tired, and he was still swinging. With each motion, he forcibly blocked out Kyle's words, while striking faster, pushing his limits as he did each and every day.

Another hour flashed by. Aisha stood in the corner of the room, having invited herself in. Blade would not stop practicing, ignoring her presence completely. When at last, he showed signs of fatigue, he bit down into the mouth guard and screamed again. This time, he collapsed on his knees. Aisha crossed her arms over her chest. She actually scowled, though she wasn't sure if she meant the disgust that showed on her face. This was the price of Blade's 'humanity'. She had to admit that she envied his control over bloodlust, but part of her was repulsed at the thought of completely suppressing it. It was almost as if he didn't want to be a vampire, clearly he wasn't following nature's laws, even though with his ability...

"I was born this way, I didn't get changed like you," Blade whispered lethally.

"I didn't ask for it either!" Aisha spat back. "But I know how to properly accept the hand I've been dealt." She hadn't moved out of the corner, but his eyes froze her in place. Her brain rapidly cycled through fear and anger. In a classical fight-or-flight situation, she'd be dead because her brain could not act on either impulse.

Blade didn't speak to her, instead he just stared, unconsciously aware of each breath she took, the deceleration of her blood, and the uneasy shifting of her weight between her feet. As her nice silver sandals inched to the right, Blade read her body language easily. Aisha was nervous. Her mouth was dry, and she couldn't think of anything to say.

"Get ready." Blade commanded, standing to his feet again. He stripped off his sweat-stained shirt, and dismissed her from the room with a thought. He considered practicing some more, but decided against it. She wasn't giving herself away, but Blade knew she had lingered a few moments against the outside of his door. She was going to cry.

Quickly, Aisha masked her emotions. She went to the small closet of a room she claimed for herself, passing Onyx on the way. Normally she would have spoken, but this time she averted her eyes, which she never did. She didn't remember how long she thought about the argument she had with Blade, but 11 rolled around much sooner than expected. She was combing through potential outfits, when Onyx happened to pass by again. He was dressed quite handsomely, but unfortunately, his mouth didn't match the part.

"Can you even get into the club?" He laughed jokingly, adjusting his cufflinks. The insult hit much too hard, and she stormed away, tears falling from her face. Onyx tried to run after her, but ran into Blade first.

"She's gone," he spoke finitely. "Let's go." Onyx didn't dare argue, but followed Blade back into their spacious garage. This time, they climbed into a white SUV, and left the base behind.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Onyx asked incredulously. Blade had told him to guard the fucking truck while he went in alone? Who did he think he was?

"No, I'm not, and you will do what I say, or your apprenticeship will be discontinued indefinitely." Blade left Onyx standing near the truck, walking away with a sweep of his cape. Onyx was angry, but couldn't move. In his mind, he had no choice but to obey, whether he liked it or not.

"Find him now!" Syfy roared, smashing his fist on the table, knocking over a cup full of ballpoint pens. The other line of the radio went eerily silent. "I don't care if you have to dispatch familiars, officers, and vampire spies at every nightclub in the entire city! I want to know where that day-walker is now!" Irascible, he drummed his fingers on the table. He was tired of half-assed results. "Call Dr. Rashidli now," he spoke into his watch. Within a minute, a translucent hologram of her entire body floated before him, with a blue-white tint.

"I don't know," the model from Saudi Arabia answered, before Jonathan could even ask. She was putting her shoulder-length hair into a cute bun. He ignored the fact that she was draped in only a robe, and she treated him the same way, a kind of standoffish air of professionalism between them. Taking the hair-tie out of her mouth, she performed the action rather elegantly.

"Listen, I know you have the day off but," Syfy started, before the hologram held up its hand, in a rather childish display.

"That's it exactly, it's my day off. I have a date with a movie and a large bowl of Breyer's now." Dr. Rashidli giggled, noticing that his eyebrow raised at the word date. "Would you care to join me general?" She asked, taking a seat on a holographic couch.

"That will be enough doctor," Syfy said, maintaining his composure. The transmission cut between them. "I need results..." he whispered this time, right before Officer Dan paged the hand-held radio at his side.

"Hey, that's him guys! Let's move out!" Panther asked, confirming his sight with the digital image on his computer. Blade was dressed sharp, but he'd be dressed sharper. A few minutes later, Trigger came up behind him grinning madly. He handed Panther a leash. On the other end was Angela, fake cat ears over her head, dressed down in a sexy black and pink outfit that showed enough skin to drive any mother on the planet crazy. She switched over to him and purred, though he knew it was only an act. She was pissed off on the inside.

It was odder seeing Kokei attached to Trigger's leash, but he shook the thought away. They all left the hotel, he and Trigger cracking their Vampa-Trans vials. It was going to be one hell of a night.

1Rokudan is a sixth degree black belt


	5. Chapter 4: Lotus Flower Bomb

**Chapter Four**

Blade walked up to the bouncer, unfazed by the massive familiar. He glanced the small, yet intricate tattoo on his neck—he hadn't destroyed that coven yet.

"Name." The bouncer demanded, crossing his arms over his broad chest and narrowing his eyes. Blade wasn't stupid, he knew the bouncer couldn't have possibly remembered every name on the five page guest list for tonight's event. Resisting the urge to pull a weapon, he spoke pointedly.

"General Tartovsky," Blade joked, turning his head to the side, refusing to hide his sarcasm or fake Romanian accent. People behind him were getting impatient. It was below freezing outside, definitely uncanny for the month of June. Moreover, all the freaks in line were under-dressed and excessively brusque.

"Not on the list," the bouncer answered immediately, without breaking his gaze. He jerked his thumb to the back of the line, trying to further dissuade Blade. "Try again next time jerkoff." He finished, spitting a little.

"Well you betta check it again muthafucka," Blade mouthed darkly. He pulled the bouncer's fat head close and pulled out a detonator, shielding the line behind him from its view with his back. Blade hadn't been considering it at first, but now their coven was on his hit list; he'd kill them all. He watched the bouncer's eyes grow wider as the authentic device started beeping rhythmically, just a thumb press away. The rolls between the fat on his neck quickly began sweating. "Or we can all go up in flames, jackass." Blade made sure to accentuate his final word with a psychotic grin.

"Ayo, what the fuck is going on?" Someone called from behind him. Several more people also voiced their opinions of the ridiculous wait time. Lotus was known not only for its popularity, but for its expedient process. Either you got in or you got out. It was absolutely pointless in a normal situation for anyone not on the guest list to bustle their way into the club. Blade ignored them. The bouncer hurriedly flipped through the pages with a newfound sense of urgency, clearly not paying any attention to the names.

"Tartovsky, VIP plus three," the olive skinned man stuttered. He placed a special mark on Blade's hand that became visible under a black light. "Enjoy the festivities," He finished, waving nervously. Blade walked into the nightclub. "Jason. Yeah, Ahmed here," the stout bouncer huffed into a microphone on his chest. Ahmed heard the owner respond crisply through his stylish earpiece and nodded slowly, compiling his reply. "There's gonna be a problem. Five feet ten, shades, yeah that's him. I'll leave it to you." Ahmed looked up and welcomed in the next few guests. Whatever that bastard's real name was, he was surely in for a rude awakening.

Blade walked directly into a pulse pounding cesspool of human and vampire bodies. He scanned the area, noticing a posh VIP lounge, some impressive king-size beds against one wall, and a grand stage, where exotic dancers flashed their naked bodies for all to see. His eyes didn't linger there for long, though he knew they were all vampires. He sighed at the ignorant humans practically drooling at each of the dancers' feet. Green bills flew through the air onto the glossy, well lit stage, and women swayed salacious bodies to and fro, hypnotically. Sadly, all of the men would be dead by the end of the night, it was a reality Blade had come to accept long ago. He pushed past a vampire couple making out fiercely, almost tearing skin from each other's faces. The carnal sight no longer disturbed him to the point of wanting to vomit. Glancing around, he studied the huge club. There were only two floors, but both of them were jam packed, and techno music fused with rap pounded everyone's eardrums in ebullient combinations. Blade paid special attention to the peculiar silver door that he could spot on the second floor from where he stood. It clearly was not a VIP room. That was his destination.

"Mmm look at you," a vampire purred seductively, undressing Blade with deep red eyes. She was dressed classy, and was dancing solo with a wine glass in her hand. The cashmere dress matched the scarlet liquid in her chic glass, and shimmered. The material looked soft, and there was a steep slit in the dress that might have been coquettish, but it stopped in the center of her thigh. Her skin was pale, but beautiful, contrasting too perfectly with her obsidian black hair. The vampire clearly was richer, more elegant, and more sophisticated than most. She seemed the type of woman that was more than capable of getting any man she wanted, but Blade forced her to finish her appraisal rather quickly as he walked past her unflinchingly. "I'll be keeping a look out for you...day-walker," she called over her shoulder.

Blade was surprised that she didn't come onto him, but the surprise ended quickly when two Hispanic women got on their knees and begged him for a bite. He wanted to spit in disgust. Realizing it would be too bold a move marching that silver door alone, he decided to relax at the bar, and get some fiery alcohol into his system. He couldn't remember the last time he'd drank just for the hell of it, especially since he wasn't able to drink his Bloody Mary at the Red Dragon, not that he actually planned on drinking anything with human blood in it anyway. Sometimes, it was just nice to pretend. Apparently the news traveled fast around the club that the day-walker had come to party. Eyes were on him at every angle. Even the five exotic dancers on stage crooned to him seductively, making direct eye contact, though acting professionally as if it was part of their performance. The humans were none the wiser.

A sharply dressed bartender approached him as he plopped into a comfortable, yet simple barstool. "Pick your poison my man," he spoke rather excitedly, his slick hairstyle bouncing with his movements. Blade was busy staring across the room. An attractive white woman with an outfit that screamed sexy, yet conservative, had paused on the fluffy purple staircase that led down from the second floor. He didn't know why, but for longer than he wished, he stared at her. Blade could not look away, her emerald green eyes were so captivating, but it was not enough to throw him out of his element. Blade looked away, just as the song changed. The floor vibrated as hundreds of people jumped up and down to the fast new beat. Though he was on the first floor, Blade could imagine how wild the upper level was.

Tiffany's breath hitched. There he was. A drop dead gorgeous day-walker, who didn't fail to impress. She forgot that she was walking down the stairs, and instead locked her gaze with his, for it was her first time seeing Blade. After what seemed like hours of close, delicious inspection, she continued to walk down the stairs, heels wobbling dangerously because she trembled in excitement. All she had to do now was cross the floor to meet him at the bar, and get the ridiculous pink blush off her face.

"Ah hell, it's break time," the suave bartender addressed. Blade didn't even raise an eyebrow. He was rather bored, in fact, if he wasn't sure that this place was going to be a madhouse once he acquired Jason's shield, he would have let Onyx join him. Watching girls flirt with his apprentice would have been much more fun than searching for action and waiting for an opportune moment. Blade could have danced. In fact, he'd been propositioned for a dance too many times to count, sometimes by very suitable candidates, others were not so suitable. Some were men. Blade shut them all down though. He remembered way back in the day when men would compete for who could get the most phone numbers in a club. It was beneath him now, but he sighed with the memory. It was a sad day when you couldn't even remember the last time you'd been with a woman. He was about to look for the mysterious vampire in a red cashmere dress among the sea of faces, when a beach-blonde beauty strutted behind the counter and up to the bartender, who bowed to her cutely. She giggled, before he chomped down on her neck, spilling blood down her nearly non-existent shirt, changing her laughter into breathy moans. The music drowned them out.

Unsure why he still was watching, Blade observed the bartender siphon his fill, and the blonde swoon hazardously. She appeared to be drunk. "Fresh from the tap eh Blade?" The bartender addressed, swinging the blonde, who had gone rather limp, in his direction. Blade held up his hand to stop him.

"Sorry man, I don't do sloppy seconds, ever." This caused the bartender to laugh, merrily mixing another drink after wiping his mouth off. He practically skipped down the bar, sensually touching another bartender who was working the same shift. She shivered, but didn't miss a beat, perfectly slinging a fire-ringed shot glass full of dull brown liquid a full three feet into an awaiting hand without spilling a drop.

Blade started zoning out, wondering instead what Aisha was doing on a night like this. That damn Onyx couldn't push his pride aside for a moment to get a woman of his own. He was too blinded by selfishness to see the obvious. Blade could have been wrong though, perhaps their incompatibility was due to Aisha's passive advances. It gave him a headache to think about it too much. Blade shook his head, startling when a cold hand briefly tapped his shoulder. Instantly his guard returned, and he fingered a trigger with his left hand. Why it was this easy to smuggle weapons into a club like this, he'd never know.

"Bacardi Limon on the rocks from the gentleman next to you," the bartender smirked, placing a large glass in front of him whose contents swirled mysteriously. The ice jingled in the glass, inviting him for a sip. Blade turned to face the older man, with a bald head and a well-tailored three piece gray suit. When the vampire smiled back gaily, Blade slowly turned away. This wasn't his night at all and he sure as hell wasn't about to drink what swirled in his bitterly cold glass. He reached for the glass and took a false sip, bowing his head gratefully to the man as if to accept the drink with respect. The fake sip was quick, and Blade deliberately let some of the drink spill onto the floor. With this volume of music thumping in their ears, even a vampire wouldn't hear the splash of Bacardi on the floor. He set the glass back down, letting out a huge, breathy sigh.

"Jason Normandy, I hear you've made quite the splash in my establishment tonight." The bald vampire introduced, extending a pale, wrinkly hand. He looked down for a moment on the floor at the Bacardi stain, though he still outstretched his hand with a smile. It only took a moment for purpose to take over Blade's face, and he shook the elder's hand, although reluctantly. Before he could continue with more pointless small talk, Blade stood, though not quickly enough for it to be out of the ordinary.

"Let's take this upstairs shall we?" Blade threatened. Jason knew the point of a solid silver stake by heart. In fact, he had smelled the weapon on the day-walker's hip before Blade had even gotten it out and between them. He also smelled the grimy scent of electricity. Jason stood slowly with a concealed point at his back.

"Sure enough day-walker, sure enough." Jason breathed, walking agonizingly sluggishly toward the stairs. Blade was positioned just right, so to the untrained eye, it seemed as if he was merely following Jason upstairs. For a second, Blade thought that there was something funny about Jason's back, and a sudden spark flickered from his weapon but he quickly dismissed the thought. Whether he had body armor or not, Jason was complying with his command. He must have already figured out why Blade was there, the shield.

Tiffany pouted, instantly regretting the few dance partners she'd chosen before heading over to Blade. It wasn't that she was allured by the tempting selection of men, but she enjoyed teasing some of the more desperate humans, though they never got too far with her. She pouted because Jason had sat down next to the day-walker and bought him a drink. When the two famous vamps stood up and headed for the second floor, Tiffany decided she'd wait for Blade by his vehicle. She looked him up and down once more, noting the way his buttons were buttoned, the way his hair was cut, and how far off his ears his shades rose. Lastly she counted the seconds it took him to walk to the stairs. "White SUV, should be parked nearby," she spoke aloud to no one in particular.

While the ability seemed pretty pointless, it made her absolutely certain that Blade had driven a vehicle to Lotus that matched her description. Walking fast to the exit, she gave the bouncer a sultry wave before pinpointing the location of the vehicle. It had untraceable tags, of course. Tiffany laughed on the inside, almost standing completely still when she noticed a human by the vehicle. He was slightly taller, had an athletic build, and was definitely dressed to kill. It must have been Onyx. This too, was her first time seeing him in person. She was going to have plenty of fun with this...

Panther tugged the leash, and Angel groaned behind him. She was cold, shivering even, but had to fake like it didn't matter. Her nipples were hardening under the strange July winds, and goose bumps took over her bare legs and arms. Dressing in lingerie was crazy enough, but dressing up in lingerie and appearing to be a cat? It was pure insanity. By the second she grew angrier, but played it off well.

"Names, and I don't mean the toys," the bouncer sneered, gesturing to Angela and Kokei. This one was a tall, lanky black man, with muscles that strained even when he wasn't flexing. They looked like they'd explode any minute. He also openly wore a gleaming black pistol on his hip. Panther was sure that he could disarm him fast enough to avoid being killed, but that wasn't the point.

"Rain Snyder," Panther asserted, while next to him, Trigger announced his fake name with a hearty laugh. Trigger went right in, Aiden following him carefully with his head and eyes low, subserviently. He fit the part almost too well. When Panther tried to follow, he was stopped. He could feel the sinking feeling in Angela's chest, but he maintained a confident attitude. Panther's cousin Jeff had gotten them the hookup at the Hilton, which meant that getting two men on a local club's guest list should have been absolute cake for him.

"Come on Rain, bite her like you always do man." The bouncer jeered, his voice a couple octaves higher, excited. "I wanna see the blood run down her neck man, for old time's sake." Panther nodded, then pulled Angela over to him. It was just his luck that Jeff had chosen a vampire familiar to the club scene. Panther reminded himself to kick Jeff's ass later. He saw fear and worry in Angela's eyes, though he wasn't sure if it was an act or not. Panther made a dramatic show of licking behind Angela's ear, making her quiver. He knew it was one of her sensitive spots. Surreptitiously, he whispered improvise in her ear and then bit down on her neck, using only his front teeth. She struggled for a bit, moaned and then dropped to the ground on all fours, panting. There was no blood.

Panther was prepared for the weird look the bouncer gave. "Perfected a new kind of bite," he added, putting authority in his voice. "She can't hear you right now." He reached down and patted her head, so she purred and leaned into his hand, making sure to wiggle her behind. Angela's eyes were glazed and spacy, as if she wasn't even in her body. Her saliva dripped to the cold concrete, and she made no effort to clean herself up. Panther clapped the bouncer on his back and then pounded his extended fist.

"You always were one sick fuck," The bouncer muttered, lifting up a chain, allowing them to pass. Panther lifted Angela up off the ground and carried her inside over his shoulder. Misty eyed, she blew the bouncer a kiss, but he'd returned to his duties. The door shut hard behind them, because the line outside was empty.

"Took you guys long enough," Trigger spoke, guiding them over to an available table reserved under their fake names. A hostess walked by and provided standard rounds on the house for VIP guests, then she sashayed away, lost in the crowd.

"Don't remind me," Angela piped up, thoroughly disgruntled. Out of the blue, a quick spark caught the corner of her eye. "Wait! There's Blade, heading upstairs!" No one at the table knew how she had discerned him from across the room, over hundreds of other dark vampire faces, but no one cared.

"Split up guys, but tail him. Make it clean." Panther spoke, getting out of his chair quickly, zooming through the crowd. The group fanned out expertly. Kokei hit the bar and Trigger danced with a few girls to distract anyone that might have been watching their group. Panther wove skillfully through the sea of flailing limbs, being careful to avoid any direct confrontations. He neared the stairs, and hoped his team had spread out far enough.

"So, you a bodyguard?" Tiffany asked, placing a hand on her hips, smacking her lips. She watched him glance her up and down her white skin in silent approval. Pretending to be slightly annoyed, she crossed her arms and asked again.

"What do you want?" Onyx spoke, neither defensively nor offensively. He leaned back against the SUV. She was quite attractive, that was true, but it was in the dead center of nighttime and Lotus was jumping. He was sure that only prostitutes and drunkards would even think about approaching him after leaving the club. Hell, even the bouncers no longer stood guard by the door, at least for now. The woman stopped walking when she was an arm's length away, she was very bold.

"My name's Tiffany, and you're Onyx right? I've heard of you," she held out her hand for him to accept, but he didn't take it. She slowly placed her hand in her pocket, and turned her hypnotic green eyes on Onyx, whose expression unconsciously warmed. "A mystery to vampires and humans alike, an alien to both of our worlds. I wonder what Blade was thinking when he decided to take you in," Tiffany continued, feigning interest. She knew he was armed to the teeth, but she also knew ways around confrontation. Tiffany imagined that a sweep kick would floor him, but she was willing to negotiate.

As expected, Onyx drew an automatic weapon, quite fast. He started interrogating her with a barrage of personal questions that she had no intention of answering. There was no one nearby. She listened to all of his questions and paid close attention to his trigger finger. His threats were serious, but his resolve was wavering. Perfect. "You wouldn't want to do that," Tiffany crooned, placing a pink nail against her lips and kissing it. She raised the small slit in her dress so that he could see the explosives ringed around her left thigh. "There's more on my chest, and in the building," Tiffany giggled, watching emotions play across Onyx's face. He conceded easily to logic, lowering the weapon, but still furious. "Let's say we have a little fight huh? I know that there's something special about that blood of yours. I know who you really are." She let the information sink in. She had him trapped.

"What do you want?" Onyx asked again, though sounding unsure of himself this time. He wondered why Blade was taking 50 years to dust a single vampire. Did he think that leaving him outside was some kind of a joke? He reflexively batted Tiffany's arm away as soon as she touched him, growling, though he was unclear why.

"If you win, I won't have you killed by the vampires watching you right now." Tiffany bluffed, face as cool as ice. While he didn't look around dramatically, she could feel his body tense, and his senses keen to full alert. "Also, I'll even tell you why I'm looking for Blade, and how I can help him." Onyx agreed almost immediately, banging his fists together. Tiffany stripped off three more bands of explosives, placing them all in a neat pile, a few yards away. "Don't try anything funny, I still have both the detonator and backup within eyesight of this location. I'll have a sniper take your fucking head off as soon as you reach for that gun in your waistband." She smiled with a dazzling curtsy. Onyx ignored it, a snarky grin growing on his face. He got into a stance, and cracked his neck twice. She started dancing. He was confused.

"Don't tell me that's..." Spit flew from Onyx's mouth when a spinning kick landed directly on his jaw. He staggered, turning to watch her, incredulous. Tiffany's frenetic movements were rhythmic and controlled. Onyx recognized them, but couldn't believe his eyes. "A white girl that knows Capoeira? That's as rare as a black man being allergic to fried chicken!" Onyx chuckled, wiping his mouth. He dodged two acrobatic flairs, preparing himself to strike back. He thought it would be such a shame to hit a face as beautiful as hers, but he didn't relent. Onyx's advance was quick and he seized her wrists, doubling back when she tried to head-butt him. Onyx placed his boot in her gut, which made her back up.

"So you're more than just a sidekick huh?" Tiffany provoked, resuming her dance. She faked a punch then assaulted Onyx's ankles with powerful kicks that threw him off balance. She couldn't land anything that would knock him over though and his stamina was pretty good. Suddenly, Onyx shot closer to her aiming a strong fist. She dropped backward, landing perfectly on one hand and aimed a kick for his groin. Onyx caught her foot and jerked her ankle to the side. He would have snapped it cleanly in two, if Tiffany didn't flip over, now using both of her hands to slam another kick against his jaw in the same exact place that Onyx had aimed at. There was surely a bruise there now. But she wasn't done yet. While he reeled backward clenching his face, Tiffany sank to the ground and in a fluid move, she kicked his feet out from beneath him, and suddenly was in a cartwheel, landing feet-first pointedly on his broad chest. He coughed violently, the pain excruciating and she decided to kick him in his side before backing off, resuming her rhythmic stance.

Onyx recovered, trembling, but ready. She was strong, he had to admit it. His side throbbed with pain, but he was okay. He'd faced worse in the gym with Blade and thus had a particularly strong tolerance for powerful kicks. For half a second, he thought about shooting her, but Blade was still in the building and he was sure that the detonator was indeed nearby, if it wasn't on Tiffany's person. Onyx ran at her and landed his first successful punch, straight to her face. Instead of falling, she flipped backward, forcing him to retreat for a few steps or be kicked again. Tiffany's feet were making him angry, as well as her surprising fortitude. She hadn't stopped moving since the fight had begun, and yet she still looked in peak physical form.

She grunted, catching his knee too late. Her ribs sent an SOS to her brain, and then she was shocked that he tore his leg away from her grip. Tiffany suddenly went on the defensive and Onyx's attacks were changing up. He was unpredictable, and it jacked with her nerves. He pushed her backward, taking extra care to make sure that she couldn't get any kicks in. Her body was feeling the punishment. Tiffany decided that she'd blow up the entire building rather than to lose to him. However, sirens redirected both of their attentions away from each other.

"You, vampire! Put your hands in the air now! Human, get on the ground!" An officer screamed over a bullhorn. Another officer noticed the explosives and then everything got serious. Tiffany pulled Onyx close, against his wishes.

"Work with me," she said pressing her curvy hips into his hard body. The cops took deadly accurate aim and began shooting.

They walked through the door, and it clicked shut behind them. Instantly, Blade felt like he was trapped. Indeed, Jason shoved off of him, and bolted down a straight and empty hallway, vanishing on the other side of a single, metallic door. Blade sprinted after him, kicking the door open and then ducking while a screech filled the room. Claws scraped across the doorway, inches from Blade's head, but they hadn't hit him. He was in a gym. He distanced himself from the two women, who regrouped back to back. They were dressed in identical navy blue outfits, hands joined together, preparing their strategy silently. Blade heard Jason bark an order, and they simultaneously attacked him. He was ready. Metal spikes erupted out of his sap gloves and his tesla-coil stakes were ready for use at any moment. He hunched forward in a definitive wrestling stance, and dodged the first strike that neared him, throwing his weight into the woman, knocking her to the floor easily.

Blade lifted one of the stakes in the air, but she kicked his midsection, making him drop it. The other woman kicked him from the side, so that he rolled away from her partner. Blade regained his ground quickly, needing only his sap gloves to fight both of them. He knew that the sister stake in his pocket could channel an electric current to the one he'd dropped, but he wasn't going to exploit that just yet. He assessed his enemies carefully, noting key differences in their tactics. The taller female, with curly brown hair and golden hoop earrings was definitely more of a challenge, but also more reserved in fighting. The shorter black-haired girl was more of an explosive fighter who wasted too much energy. Perhaps he could kill two birds with one stone...

Blade weaved to the right, and then punched the shorter woman in the face. Turning around, he rolled over a weight bench, kicking off a deadlifting weight, which thumped the ground, shattering the curly haired woman's foot in the process. She howled in pain, while her partner never looked back. Blade knew that the wound would heal, but he wasn't going to sit around and just watch while it did. The bigger question was, why didn't she torch like she was supposed to? The pikes that adorned his weapons were all made of pure silver, and had never failed him before. Blade hit her in the chest again, a swift combination putting twelve holes in his opponent. However, even after the combo, she was still alive, merely bleeding from the wounds that should've turned her into dust-bunnies.

Blade scooped up the dropped stake and then leaped into the air. The black-haired vampire launched herself into the air after him, and met up with his foot. Her nose broke immediately, spilling blood everywhere. Taking advantage of the timing, Blade flung the warm stake through the air. The injured vampire easily dodged, laughing as she did so. She was a hideous sight, showing mirth with blood gushing down the entire front of her face.

"Hey Claire, the day-walker's got no aim!" The vampire jeered, though her nose hadn't ceased bleeding wildly. There was no laughter in response though, just a scream. Lightning jumped from the stake and into Claire's golden earrings, electrocuting her to death. Unlike his other opponent, Claire was incinerated almost instantly, though still at a slower rate than normal. The remaining vampire watched Blade closely. She started healing before Blade attacked again, though blood still lingered on the majority of her face and shirt.

He'd gauged them wrong. Claire was definitely smarter and probably stronger than the foolish vampire opposite him as well. At least Claire knew how to strategically last on the battlefield, not attacking irrationally. Blade's thoughts drifted momentarily to Jason. God knows what he was doing while Blade was fending off his bodyguards. He could only pray that there wasn't an alternative exit and that they were truly confined to these two rooms on the top floor.

Blade's stakes provided little help against this vampire, who knew of their dangerous properties, having seen her partner scorched to death by the electricity. Nevertheless, she still moved awkwardly and soon Blade found an easy to identify pattern in her movements. Blade decided to go hand to hand, jamming the silver weapons into holders along his pants leg. The second vampire stalled him for three of the longest minutes, but then Blade went in for a knee, which connected as he expected.

He grabbed her head, and slammed it down into the motionless treadmill, straight onto the two stakes he'd planted there during the annoying three minutes that he used to lure her around different areas in the room. When she rose again from all fours, the two stakes gored her eyes and fried her skull. She turned into ashes shortly after. Why did it take so long though?

Jason Normandy burst out of an adjacent room, a huge shield in his hands. His skin was covered in fancy light armor, and he looked nothing like before. Blade jumped back in surprise when the gigantic shield let out a roar that was so realistic, it was as if the lion's head—which protruded from the shield's front—, had jumped out and entered the room. It moved, visibly the eyes crafted from rubies staring at him. "Come and get it, La Espada! El Escudo and Defender are ready for you!" Jason hollered, eyes blazing red. He thrust the round shield in the air, bellowing a battle cry. Blade pulled out a gun, shooting several high caliber slugs at Jason, which rebounded uselessly off the shield. Jason was rushing him.

Blade pulled out his sword and it clashed with the behemoth. The lion on the shield clamped his katana in its jaws, and Jason's foot was a surprise that had him flying backward and into a wall. Though jarred, Blade could still somersault out of the way, dodging the enormous lion head which bashed into the wall, its teeth clamping shut on air. He was lucky that its fangs had released his sword during its attack. During his roll, the day-walker tried to aim a few gunshots for Jason's legs, but the vampire had hopped on top of the shield, and launched into another kick which knocked Blade off his feet. Haughtily, Jason merely walked back to pick up Defender, giving Blade his back to stare at. Next, Jason launched the shield as though he were a pro discus thrower.

Blade dodged, but the shield bounced as though it were rubber. The wall behind him acted as a catalyst for the next attack. Blade rushed forward, stakes in his hand, ready to gore Jason's neck. Jason didn't even respond to counter him. When Blade aimed for his neck, inches away, Defender slammed into his back, and then Jason decided it was the perfect time for a jaw smashing right hook. Disorientated, Blade lurched forward because of the painful surprise attack, then struggled to stand when Jason's powerful fist hammered his face. A piece of him wanted to explode right then and there. He could barely stand.

"They say the best defense is a good offense Blade." Jason lorded, landing a solid punch against Blade's abdomen. Jason's eyes roved over the ceiling. Defender deflected off another wall and landed smoothly in his left hand. It roared again, the experience surreal. "But I say, the best offense is a perfect defense." He erupted into laughter when Blade shot more rounds from twin SMG's extracted from his waist. Behind the shield, which had expanded in size to cover Jason's body, all manner of bullets were worthless. Jason held his ground prudently, until the sound of rounds stopped. He wasn't an amateur. In fact, he knew exactly where Blade was about to strike next.

Jason pivoted, and the shield protected him from Blade's destructive stab. There was a humongous flash of light which made him blink. He ducked into a sweep kick, and took the day-walker by surprise again. Blade tripped over Jason's foot, and Defender bit painfully in his shoulder. Despite the failed flash grenade, Blade twisted around to counter attack, but Jason kicked him again, causing him to stumble backward. Blade lifted his sword again, and Jason spun around. Blade struck once Jason's back was exposed, but miscalculated the timing. Jason's clenched fist hit him so hard that he fell to the ground, heaving, nursing a jaw that ached painfully whenever he breathed. If it weren't for the vampire genes in his system, Blade was sure it would have broken clean off by now.

"Best offense, my boy." Jason taunted, raising Defender. "It's nice to know that one of the greatest vampires who ever lived will fall by my hand. Such a disappointment though, Blade, I thought you were better than the rumors. In any case, Vladimir will be so pleased." Jason moved in for the finishing blow. A searing pain shot up his spine. There was a thick knife in his back that vibrated, making more blood spill. When he reached for it, the only exit door crashed off its hinges, and the knife suddenly disappeared. Making a huge commotion, the door clanged against the ground, revealing four humans behind it.

"Kokei, take Blade, Trigger, support, Angel to my six, Falcon Formation!" Panther shouted. He caught a glimpse of the shield and his lips turned up into a smirk. Its value had to be in the millions. "Jackpot," he whispered, ignoring Blade for the time being. Trigger had taken post in a far corner, and was putting Jason in defensive positions by steadily firing waves of rounds at him. Angela's knife shot back into her waiting hands, vibrating again once there. Panther caught Jason's eye and immediately the connection was established. For now, Panther knew that he was the prime target.

Panther lifted his hands, having huge gauntlets strapped to each of them, made out of a gold-colored metal that was ten times harder than steel, yet just as light. Instead of the gauntlets ending in a fist, two razor sharp panther's claws stabbed out an additional five inches, forming deadly slashing as well as penetrating weapons. He would have had three claws custom made on each gauntlet, however, having two made the weapon more aerodynamic, in addition to decreasing the total weight of the weapons.

Jason's face turned up in a smile. Five opponents? This was perfect. In reality though, he only faced three, since one of the new team's members was attacking Blade. He laughed at the irony. Why would they attack their only chance to win against him?

"He's where?" Syfy shouted, already pulling on a thick coat. One of his vampire spies had spotted Blade at Lotus. "Dispatch everyone currently available!" Syfy commanded, jumping into his car. This time, it was an expensive Firebird, created purely for speed. Officer Dan rode shotgun next to him. It was the first time in a long time that he'd let anyone into the same vehicle as himself. Syfy pressed on the gas and made a beeline for the club, at the same time coordinating other squad cars from around the city to slowly close in on Lotus. He had some cars purposefully wait in designated locations, should the day-walker escape the immediate perimeter.

Officer Dan looked over to Syfy, and immediately realized why this man was so revered in their organization. He was admirable, an excellent leader, and though clearly stressed, he still managed to think rationally and calmly. Officer Dan couldn't imagine anything breaking that facade. Ever since he'd joined this branch of SPECS, he'd always seen Syfy as a guiding light, one who tried to protect as well as serve the people. As the duo got nearer to the club, they passed other unmarked cop cars, flashing ultraviolet lights as a signal to them. All of the cars flashed back in acknowledgment.

The man had to be blind, yet he was striking so accurately, it was impossible to match him to the disability. Disability translated into disadvantage, whether you were human or not, yet as the man skillfully fought against him, Blade couldn't possibly see the disadvantage in his blindness. Blade blocked the tip of the spear, and thrust it back toward its user. His eyes were clearly covered by what appeared to be a blood-red headband, yet each of his steps was guided and expertly positioned. When Blade aimed low, the man jumped backward, as if he knew all of Blade's movements. Nevertheless, this was nothing compared to Jason's strength. Blade's counter attacks were much more forceful, and he'd gained back his vitality from earlier. His wounds had healed, and his body felt great again. He knew he couldn't kill the human on the other end of his weapon for moral reasons, but the human sure tried to kill him. Blade wouldn't even give him a moment's satisfaction.

Blade sliced diagonally downward, then parried another strike. Taking one hand from his weapon, he palmed the blind man's face, and forced it backward. While he was unbalanced, Blade slashed his chest open. He was tired of the pointless struggle. Instead, he shoulder tackled his opponent, and then redirected his attention to Jason, who was fighting a tall Brazilian woman, and a black man with an anachronistic getup that was far before modern clothing. They were having mixed success at combating the shield-bearing vampire.

Panther was having so much fun. This guy was stronger, and had a sense of perfection about him. Panther hadn't landed one blow so far, and the wound Angel's knife named Funeral had inflicted, long since healed. The other, entitled Heartbreaker, slashed dangerously at the vampire, whose shield forced Angel to retreat. The scary lion on the front raged, trying to dismember anything it came in contact with. Since Angel's knives were short, coming into melee range was already a serious hazard. But Panther had seen the way the vampire deflected Trigger's bullets. Throwing the knives at him would have no more success. Trigger had stopped firing rounds due to their excessive advances around his target. Panther was having the most success and his opponent recognized his skill, he could tell by the vampire's facial expression.

Panther jumped into the air, spreading his legs and shot the claws on one of the gauntlets past Jason's head. When Jason turned backward inspecting the weapon, Panther was on the move, hooking a durable chain around Jason's neck. He dropped into a somersault and then a cartwheel to avoid the famous shield. Before Jason knew it, there was a chain knotted around his neck and stuck into the wall. Panther kept Jason's eyes on him however, sweeping the vampire off his feet with a powerful kick. He caught Jason's tangled neck, and slammed him to the ground with a powerful wrestling move. The vampire choked.

Jason screamed when two knives pinned his legs to the dull, green carpeted floor. The knives' effect was the same as earlier, constantly vibrating while inside stuck inside of him, causing Jason to bleed much more than was necessary. He reached for them, still in pain from Panther's move, but Angel raised her hands, and the weapons returned to them, making a familiar snapping noise as they snugly filled her fingers. As quick as a cat, Jason used otherworldly agility to rise to his feet with Defender. The great lion clamped down on Panther's chain, summarily yanking the clawed end from a freshly created hole in the wall. He turned his neck so quickly that it flung Panther through the air. Jason attacked with Defender, but drew back a bloody hand. A solid silver bullet pierced right through his skin, making him drop the ancient shield in surprise.

Blade smirked, Trigger's pistol in his hand. It hadn't taken long to cross the room, disarm the marksman and line up a shot. He was surprised that the blind swordsman he'd tackled hadn't recovered yet. Nonetheless, the team leader with the golden gauntlets smartly got behind Jason, putting his foot in Jason's back, while pulling his arms backward, immobilizing him. Blade could see the man's muscles bulging against the struggling mass of vampire held captive by them.

"Take the shot!" Panther yelled, not caring who did it. He saw Trigger make a move to reclaim his weapon and stopped him with just his eyes. Blade leveled the weapon for the shot, then at the last second, Jason did a front flip, double kicking Panther in his face and still acrobatically landing on his feet. Blade's first four shots missed, putting thick holes in the wall. Blade chased after Jason as he ran for the window in an adjacent room. No one stopped him. Jason leaped over his executive desk, opened the long window and stood on the sill, opening his arms to the night wind. Then he fell slowly backward and off the building. Blade forced his legs to go faster and with a shot so precise, it would have made Aldebert Waldron proud, he blew right through Jason's skull, causing the entire body to burn and become ashes before it hit the concrete sidewalk below.

Satisfied but still cautious, Blade re-entered the gym, and picked up the legendary shield, while the group leader asked if Blade had succeeded. The rest of the team was tending to the blind fighter, suppressing the slash wound Blade had given him. "I'm out," Blade spoke, not surprised when the four members of their team all stood in front of the doorway. Their leader had retracted the long chain back into the gauntlets, now looking like a puffed up Wolverine. The sole female of the group made him laugh, because she was dressed in what appeared to be black lingerie, complete with a cat tail. The ears had fallen from her head during the battle. Blade absently kicked them out of the way while walking directly toward their line of bodies.

"Give up the shield Blade. We saved your ass, and without our weapon, you wouldn't have made the kill." Panther asserted.

Blade ignored him. He noticed the blind swordsman had retrieved his spear, but didn't have it aimed directly at him. The day-walker smirked. There was the weak link. He appraised the rest of the team, the only member truly threatening to him being the senior marksman, who had another automatic weapon aimed smartly at his heart. He disregarded the female as a threat entirely. Having knives, magnetic properties or not, was instantly a disadvantage against him. "I'd suggest you move right now, before I," Blade began, when there was a loud bang that rocked the entire building. Everyone fell to the floor, including Blade. Weights dropped to the floor from dangerous heights. He could hear constant screaming from party-goers on the floor below.

"Vici, forget the shield! We'll handle Blade later. Let's get out of here!" Panther yelled, summarily leaving with his entire team, leaving Blade to die. He stood up, brushing invisible lint off his jacket. He preferred things this way.

They crashed down upon hard asphalt, Onyx arching his body over hers to shield her from any falling debris. The building was coming apart, especially since the first explosion, triggered by a misfired shot, activated the others in a dangerous chain reaction. Tiffany wasn't thinking about that though. She could care less for the hundreds of people in Lotus that had a very high chance of dying. All she thought about was why Onyx had saved her from the blast, even though she fought against him, threatened to kill him, and had information about him that even he didn't know. She closed her eyes, adrenaline making her breathing heavy. The sweat from his pores licked her nose erotically. His heartbeat thudded in her ears. The rhythm entranced her, so she didn't hear him when he called her name. Tiffany only came to her senses when he pulled her to her feet.

"Gamma squad, second floor! Epsilon, handle these two, I'm going for Blade." Syfy spoke. A new platoon entered the fray, and now there was clearly a circle of highly trained officers surrounding Onyx and Tiffany. Onyx wished he could stop the leader, who Tiffany had told him was named Jonathan, or even warn Blade that he was coming, but it was impossible. Instead, he nudged Tiffany and got into a fighting stance. Despite being cautious due to the exploding building nearby, the officers that surrounded them remained fearless, armed with stakes, even though their orders weren't to kill either of them.

Syfy squeezed his way into the building, immediately swamped by sweaty, screaming patrons all trying to escape the only exit. He narrowed his eyes, and scanned each face, resigning to pushing off to the side to resist the steady flow of traffic. Lotus was chaos. The sudden adrenaline rush put already intoxicated vampires into a frenzy, causing them to feed in horrendous numbers. Jonathan couldn't turn anywhere without seeing a detached limb, a stream of blood or a roaring flame. There were a few scattered piles of burning flesh, lit like demonic trash barrels that spewed more black smoke into the air. The atmosphere reeked of death and blood. Jonathan looked up just in time to see a piece of the ceiling collapse, and crush a young teenager to death. Instead of fleeing, a few of the bolder vampires circled the bloodshed, going as far as licking the concrete to satisfy their insatiable stomachs. He considered shooting them, but he was only looking for Blade.

Making his way to the stairs, he saw several exotic dancers glance in his direction, signaling to others. To them he was merely a human who was dumb and confused. To them he was prey for the taking. They were definitely wrong. Syfy whirled around, blasting through an outstretched hand with his golden blunderbuss. The vampire shrieked at the loss of his limb, until its jaw became ash, the rest of the body following suit. While looking into several other pairs of red eyes which now eyed him hungrily, he saw Blade's unforgettable sword flash with the light of an open flame, directly in front of the entrance.

There's not much time left! Tiffany shouted over her shoulder, the sounds of another explosion drowning out her voice. Onyx nodded anyway, body slamming an officer to the ground, his silver stake falling out of his hand uselessly. Onyx cut a path between them, motioning for Tiffany to follow.

Blade met them at the SUV. It was raining bricks and glass. Not caring who Onyx had with him, he started up the white vehicle, throwing the shield into the back and slammed his foot on the gas. Blade actually hit a few of the officers that were in their way, narrowly avoiding a row of spike strips designed to extinguish his chance of escaping. In the rearview mirror, he saw the familiar general in a fancy car. He looked angry, for a vein pulsed in his forehead that Blade could see, even though he was speeding swiftly away.

"Shit," Blade cursed, turning the wheel as far as it would go. Three squad cars with blazing red lights darted out of a hidden alley and were on their tails. Every so often, a bullet would hit the body of the vehicle, setting Blade's nerves on edge. No matter how he maneuvered through the city, whenever he lost a pack of cops, more would show up around the next bend. In addition, the vehicle driven by the general never lost his trail. Blade assumed he was being tracked by his license plates, even though the number wasn't registered in any DMV on the planet.

"Can't we do something about them?" Onyx complained, gripping the small handle on the ceiling, struggling to keep himself upright while Blade made more death defying turns. Cars swerved to avoid them. Huge tractor trailers stopped, point blank, in the center of the road. Stoplights went haywire. Nevertheless, no matter what Blade did, he couldn't lose the endless number of speedy vehicles that pursued him. He adjusted his mirror, until the emerald eyed female sitting in the back came into his vision. She looked bored, and was playing with her nails, studying them as if she had a test coming up.

"Can't you do something about this?" Blade asked monotonously. In reply he received a mischievous smile.

"Open your sunroof. I've got something for Jonathan and his officers." Tiffany said, eventually climbing out of it and surfing on top of the truck. Bullets whizzed by her head, though they didn't make her nervous. Four new vehicles were behind them now, not counting Jonathan's flashy Firebird. When Blade made another turn, she held on for support, and then leaped off the truck as soon as one of the unmarked vehicles poked its head out from around the corner.

"What the fuck?" Onyx expressed, craning his head backward to watch the car go up in flames and smash into a post office box. Tiffany was in the air and almost as if executing a ballet move, landed smoothly on the hood of another police car. Guns aimed at her and fired, though in the end they only shattered the windshield. Her belly flat on the speeding car's hood, Tiffany kicked the driver in the head, making it break through the window on that side of the car. Onyx couldn't see what she placed inside the car, but a moment later and the car flipped over in flames, crashing into another cop car, that had tried applying brakes, but to no avail. The blast that hit both of their vehicles shot the huge metal cars into the air, dropping only debris. Everyone inside was dead.

Tiffany abused taxis and civilian automobiles so that she could take out her targets. Whether it was luck or just skill, her powerful legs helped her destroy five more cars, which spouted from parking lots and alleyways like ants from an anthill. Seeing only two more cars, she hi-jacked one, giving Blade a thumbs up. She accelerated into sixth gear, Jonathan's Firebird slowly gaining on her. Feeling like a daredevil, Tiffany skidded into a powerful drift, her car speeding straight for the Firebird. Trak-Automatic forced Jonathan's vehicle down a random side-street nearby to avoid the collision. When Blade saw her, he slowed down, until she could jump back into the SUV. The abandoned automobile she'd hi-jacked didn't crash, but instead slowed to a stop.

"All yours!" Tiffany said brightly, Onyx looking at her with his mouth agape. Blade was busy driving, his hand hovering over the EMP button on the dashboard. When the snazzy red vehicle appeared on their trail once again, as Blade knew would happen, he pressed the button, stomping down on the gas again. A small bomb dropped from the underside of the car and exploded, though there were no flames.

"Fuck!" Syfy hollered as all his communication systems shorted at once. His car slowed to a stop, nearby streetlights blew out, and parked car alarms blared all around him. He banged his fists against his steering wheel, pissed. The day-walker had eluded him again.


	6. Chapter 5: Promotion Code-Sadness

**Chapter Five**

"You sure you'll be alright?" Panther asked Kokei. They were arriving back at their stylish waterside mansion. The gibbous moon above provided as much light as a full one would have, but Panther was more concerned about his teammate who'd taken a nasty slash from Blade.

"Yeah, it'll be fine." Kokei replied nonchalantly. "I've got some herbal medicine in my room that will cover the wound and prevent infection. Besides, honestly I don't think he meant to kill me. The slash itself put me into shock, but it's not as deep as it could have been. His voice became resigned, weary even.

Panther nodded, and the vehicle went silent. What surprised everyone the most was that Trigger hadn't had anything to say, and after an event that big, it should have been impossible to shut him up. After a minute of silence, Angela decided to finally complain about her revealing, overly sensual outfit, which calmed everyone down. The atmosphere lightened considerably, which eased up the tension in each of their bodies. Panther's mind focused on the shield. How could the lion on it possibly be alive like that? He'd never seen a weapon brought to life like that, and hadn't even read about anything close to it in a book. While it was also interesting that Blade had wanted it, he mentally scolded himself. There was an opportunity for him to snatch the shield and run, but then again, Kokei was injured, he'd wanted to confirm the kill, and lastly but most importantly, should the lion enliven again, there was no way in hell that he was getting his arm chewed off.

The lights out front welcomed them, bathing them in light UV rays while he parked the vehicle. The two story mini-mansion loomed overhead, its majestic walls a mask, hiding secret vampire-slaying weapons all over the place. In fact, the walls virtually smelled of gunpowder, filled with computer controlled rifles ready to be fired at a moment's notice. The team hopped out their vehicle, and with two claps, the front door to the mansion opened automatically. Panther could see that something was off, the moment he stepped inside. He signaled for the rest of the team to enter through the back, while cautiously walking through the front. There were tiny things out of place, lights that weren't on before were on and the white door to the fridge was slightly ajar. Someone was here. He whistled, and a silver-fanged panther came bounding down the stairs, eyes blazing with fury. It sniffed the air a few times, but couldn't detect a scent. In the end, it joined Panther's side, diligently searching the area with its yellow eyes. A low growl rumbled deep in its belly, as if it could smell an enemy, but couldn't determine its location.

Panther walked cautiously through the living room in a low crouch. E-Bon stalked behind him, scanning the area. Panther walked past four black couches and a wide screen plasma TV mounted on a freshly painted wall, circling back to the kitchen. Just as he was closing the refrigerator, there was a raspy voice in his ear.

"I'm going to need you to follow me."

Panther whirled around, striking at the unknown man, but no one was there. Though E-Bon was on full alert, the panther couldn't identify anything. The creature loped around in a deadly crouch, but had no prey to stalk. Panther could smell a cold metal in the air, which was most likely a gun. He was going to start panicking, but then he saw the rest of his team walk into the kitchen, hands raised above their heads. The three men that were behind them had slick, black weapons at their backs, and were decked out in matching white suits. They all had circular black glasses on that hang loosely from their ears. As if they were cloned, the men shared cold, piercing brown eyes, rigid jawlines, and barely breathed. As if it was common knowledge, one of the men threw a small, silver box at E-Bon, which became a large metal cage that trapped him instantly. The beast roared and clawed against the bars, with no success at escaping.

Resigned to fate, Panther climbed into the back of a black Range Rover, having been stripped of all his weapons and cuffed along with his crew. They were flanked on either side by the strange men, and there was no use looking outside because the windows were tinted pitch black. They had been riding for a little over twenty minutes when the men pulled them from the car. They were uncuffed and ushered into a vaguely familiar tavern by the name of Vizuela.

A high-pitched bell rang, alerting everyone of their entry, however, the place held less than twenty people, their bunch included. One of the suited men walked ahead, sidestepping a couple of cheap, yet sturdy tables to greet the bartender who ran the place. "I'll leave them to you Joe." He spoke, straight to the point. In less than a minute, the doors behind them closed, leaving the four members of Vici standing in their stead, mildly confused.

Joe was a portly man with a huge brown beard and the stature of a back-in-the-day lumberjack. His hearty laugh was a small boom of energy, and he used it to welcome them openly. Panther was busy scrutinizing the few people that were present. Two people stood out to him the most. One was covered in three poorly dressed, yet sexy women but his eyes were serious as a heart attack. He had spiky brown hair that seemed more suited to anime, and a long black jacket that shined brilliantly with silver crosses all down the front in parallel rows. He wore leather biker's gloves, and boots that were giant sized. The definitive feature was a huge claymore against his back. Just looking at the blade made him feel slightly weaker, as the weapon was so tall that it had to be strapped diagonally across his back, and looked like it easily weighed over 100 pounds.

The other was a female, but she had a black hoodie pulled over the better half of her face. What he did see though, was beautiful, midnight-colored, straight hair that reflected light. She sat higher on a barrel, rather than the same chairs as everyone else. When he'd walked into the building, she was laughing really loudly, clearly intoxicated. However, once he'd started his visual appraisal, she'd gone eerily silent. Panther's eyes met electric blue for a second, and his blood ran cold. Joe interrupted his train of thought, and the other two men that sat with the hooded girl resumed talking animatedly to her.

"Welcome Vici, to Vizuela, one of the top bounty hunting headquarters in the Nexus. Joe extended one of his fat, hairy arms and smiled in welcome. Panther grasped the forearm in a warrior's handshake. Joe looked pleased. He walked over to a polished marble bar that stretched the length of an entire wall. Vici each took one of the barstools and looked at Joe expectantly while he rambled on and on about the mercenary world and its rules. Angela kept glancing at the man with a huge sword in her peripheral vision. She hadn't had a chance to change, and was attracting attention from him that she surely didn't want.

"So, I won't explain everything, just the basics for tonight. Your team has just ranked up in Vizuela's mercenary system to a middle-tier class-C for the recent vampire kill you have made." Joe's energy was astounding, his mustache bouncing along his face actively.

Panther pinched Angela before she could spill the beans about Blade making the kill. He'd used Trigger's gun, and it had registered in the system as their kill. Panther would not let her ruin this new experience for him, or his team. Down to the blood that ran very deep inside of himself, he was bubbling with excitement.

"You can now recruit mercenaries down to F-class, and have a new set of higher value targets available should you so choose." Joe continued. The tirade was getting kind of boring, so Panther's mind and eyes strayed away from the conversation, even though he was supposed to be the representative of their group.

Panther looked at the side wall which held a bulletin board lined with photographs and papers. On the largest sheet of paper, pinned with green and red thumbtacks, the top 50 bounty hunters and hunting teams were listed. It disheartened him when he realized that they were number 40 on the list. The records had each of their code names, their team name, their rank, and their dollar worth. Though the amount made him smile, it was nothing near what the dollar amounts at the top came to. Trigger elbowed him and pointed upward. The list was ranked primarily by dollar amount, and the classes coincided. There was no-one below middle-tier class-C on the top 50. There, at number fifteen was Blade, who was middle-tier class-B. His dollar amount was over one million. Though that was nice, the top three bounty hunters were class-S and each had dollar values over a billion.

"So who's the hooded chick and the dude in black?" Panther asked, indirectly pointing over his shoulder. Joe gave an uneasy laugh.

"The girl is The Black Tiger, ranked highest-tier class-B." Joe lifted his hand and gestured toward number 10. Everyone above that was in class-A from the lowest tier class-A up to class-S, which didn't have the standard three tier division like the other classes did. "Now for the real reason you're here, this." Joe pulled a shiny check from his pocket and handed it to Panther. "Jason Normandy was a number... while normally, you wouldn't have been given a bounty of that caliber, there are instances where kills are confirmed that teams do not know have a bounty on their heads." Joe laughed. "Blade is the best case of that. Just about every kill he's made has been without a mission request, but he never fails to drop by every now and again to pick up his earnings!" Kokei nodded his head. Beside him, Angela was taking notes on a pocket-sized PDA. Panther was staring at the check and frowning. He'd forgotten all about the spiky haired man in black.

"Fifty thousand is a nice amount, but I thought you just told us he was big game? A bounty clearly above our class?" Panther questioned, narrowing his eyes and threading his fingers together on the bar. Joe's jovial attitude refused to be stamped out. He pulled out three more checks, addressed to Trigger, Kokei and Angela.

"Fifty K, each." Joe finalized, unable to hide the smirk that popped onto his face like kernels in the microwave. Panther's frown did a handstand. He glanced excitedly between the members of his team. Trigger had a sly smile on his face.

"Guess you're glad that I registered our team in Vizuela's system last year huh?" He said, grinning from ear to ear.

Aisha slammed her glass on the table, and ordered another. Her vision was getting slightly blurry, and the four red walls surrounding her started to dance. She stopped inspecting the four individuals at the bar talking to Joe, and instead turned her eyes to the opposite side of the room, where an older, black man was playing a guitar with a deep, soulful hue that matched his skin tone. Aisha nodded with the lyrics.

"Black tiger, walking all alone on a road of her own. Dual katanas, heaven and hell, sharpest blades anyone's ever known. Vampire slayer, with a sexy smile to hide... you'll have to fight the black tiger to get to the woman inside." The man plucked another string to end the verse. There was a beeping noise, and a small metal box next to the wooden stool the man sat upon showed twenty dollars. Aisha had tipped him electronically from her table.

The man smiled and continued singing. After another searing glass of her favorite alcoholic drink entitled Twilight Madness, mixed exclusively by Joe himself, the two men beside her held her back from immediately ordering another. She tipped the man up front 100 dollars, which made him sing louder and play with a rejuvenated spirit. She could tell that this was enough money to keep him going for a month, and inside herself she was smiling, glad she'd done something to help someone. Outside, the initial symptoms of a horrid headache began to manifest.

One of the two servers on the clock came by. He had sandy brown hair and a nice formal outfit. With an excess of help from the two men beside her, Aisha regretfully declined another drink. Instead, she asked the server to speak to the man with the brown cowboy hat at the counter. He bowed deeply, but not too deeply, and walked away to honor her request.

Moments later, Trigger sat across from her. She stared directly into his eyes, her electric blue contacts lighting up due to the angle of the bright lights which hang from the ceiling in a grid-like fashion. Her two friends migrated to a different table nearby.

"You look quite good tonight, cowboy," Aisha spoke in a low tone, almost purring. She batted her eyelids at him, and ensnared him completely with her electric blue eyes. Trigger kept up his guard but found the conversation easy to maintain. Even though she was clearly tipsy, they had a fun time for about ten minutes, and then he walked back to the bar.

"Hey man, we were just about to pick up our next mission, what was that all about?" Panther asked. Before Trigger could answer, a voice rang out, clearly, but in a threatening tone.

"Rule of Five."

All of their chairs whirled around, and even Joe's voice trembled slightly when he spoke to them. "You should leave, now." Joe commanded, reaching behind the counter, his face contorted. Panther stood up with his team. The tall man in black pointed his finger directly at them, repeating himself. Joe lifted a heavy, double barreled shotgun and held it at his side for all to see. The three women who moments ago were busy fawning, squealed and ran out of the tavern as fast as they could with high heels. The man playing guitar up front stopped playing, his face horror stricken.

Panther watched the hooded woman stand up, banging her fists so hard on the table that her empty glass fell onto the floor, shattering.

"I'm an Unspeakable, you asshole!" She shouted, whirling to face the man in black, who took the humongous sword off of his back.

"Do you choose to defend or attack?" The man basically spat, letting his sword fall to the ground. It left an impression on the floor, which was tiled.

"Defend." The woman whispered.

Panther stood there awestruck, while Joe forced them outside of the tavern. "Go, now! Try coming back tomorrow, there will be more missions available then." His voice was desperate and strained. Even though the door slammed, leaving Vici outside, Panther heard the sound of breaking glass from inside and then a horrible boom as the shotgun went off.

"What...the...fuck?" He cursed loudly. However, he wasn't going to tempt fate. Panther told his team that they needed to head back to headquarters. They were able to catch a nearby bus. Adrenaline coursed through his system, even though the passengers on the bus didn't care at all. His team stood in the center aisle, and he was practically bouncing from foot to foot with excitement. Who knew being a bounty hunter could be this exciting? And to think that Blade was number 15? Oh yeah, he and his crew were going to have to work to get past him in rank. He punched his hand. "Alright guys, looks like we've gotta do some research, and some work to get ourselves known across the Nexus, and the rest of the continent." Panther spoke looking up. He had big dreams in his head, and refused to be dissuaded. In fact, he looked over Angela's notes and they kept an exciting conversation going all the way back to the mansion.

Aisha had sobered up a little while ago. She had no idea why Sterk wanted to kill the four hunters who had walked in, but it was even stranger that she'd stopped him using her title as an Unspeakable. It had to be the liquor that was muddling her brain. Despite that fact, she silently craved another bottle, but it was getting really late, and she knew it would not bode well with her system. Across from her table, Sterk sat, glaring meanly at her, though perfectly calm, leaning his special, plushy chair into the wall behind him. His women were gone, and without them, Sterk truly looked to be the class-S bounty hunter that he was.

Aisha's head brought back memories she wasn't too fond of. In Vizuela, whether an assassin, a mercenary, or a bounty hunter, whether human or vampire, everyone in the system had a compatibility score. Sterk had a score of 20, which was downright deplorable. Sometimes she hated that he was ranked higher than her, simply because of the fact that his class dictated everyone he could recruit for missions. Since class-S was the highest, Sterk could recruit anyone that was registered with Vizuela for any mission, whether the mission was suited to the partner's rank or not. She hated the fact that others could be forced into companionship with that monster, even if it was only once. After that, since his compatibility score was so low, anyone previously assigned to his team could refuse him for future missions. That's if they survived the extremely dangerous missions that Sterk accepted like free money.

Aisha remembered going on a mission with him. He was the coldest, most brutal human she'd ever known and seeing him today, nothing had changed. His prey included vampires and humans, of all ages and sizes. She remembered exactly ten years ago, during the great Vampire-Human War, she'd gone on her first, and last mission with Sterk. She'd watched him perform impressive feats, those far outshining any human she'd ever seen. She'd also seen blood spill from the throats of young mothers, children crying while their pets were unnecessarily slain, and entire communities devastated while Sterk lawlessly pursued one vampire. If she remembered correctly, that mission was the one that had given him his promotion to class-S. It made her sick to her stomach whenever she had to think about it.

Her experiences were much better though. Under her nickname, The Black Tiger, she'd gotten from class-F to class-B in a short time period. She also was well known for being a skilled assassin, especially when it came to male targets. In some parts of the world, they called her the black widow, because she knew what men wanted, and as a clever vampire woman who'd filled out in all the right places, married, engaged, seeing someone, single, it didn't matter what kind of man she was after. She would bring him in, alive or dead. While she was still two classes beneath Sterk, her compatibility score was a perfect 100, so it didn't matter if she recruited up and coming class-F hunters, or experienced class-B vampires, she always did the best she could for her teammates. She was always positive, friendly, and strictly business. That was still true today, although since she'd secretly joined with Blade as allies, she hadn't done many group missions. Aisha Yamakita and The Black Tiger were two different women with two different sets of priorities, and no one in Vizuela needed to know otherwise.

Aisha blinked, making sure her electric blue contacts were snugly in place. She removed her hood and received a fresh breeze of air from the ceiling fan above. To her left, Pinky, a class-D vampire who exclusively took contracts against human targets, grabbed her hand rather foolishly. She was no longer drunk, and thus the flirtatious advance was ignored. However, she couldn't help but smile. They were friends.

"You going to be okay Tiger? It's been a crazy couple of hours huh?" Pinky stated, rubbing his thumb across the backside of her hand. Though the touch was affectionate, his hands were calloused and abrasive. At that moment however, she was glad he was there, middle-tier class-D or not, she couldn't have asked for a better cohort at the moment.

"I'm going to be fine, you dog." Aisha joked, withdrawing her hand. Pinky smiled, a gleaming gold tooth peeking at her from the center of his mouth. It matched the wedding band on his finger, which reflected his business attire. Pinky adjusted his red and white striped tie, passing his hand idly over a shining bald head, which had accumulated a bit of sweat. Within seconds, a crumpled up paper towel lay abandoned on the table.

"What do you think Sterk had against them?"

Aisha turned to the other hulking figure at her table. He had a gigantic torso, which his clothes strained to hold onto. He too was dressed down in a formal suit, complete with handkerchief tucked neatly into his breast pocket. His skin was sickly yellow, and perhaps his two defining features matched his name. A large chunk of Ratso's left ear was missing, due to an injury he'd received long ago from a fleeing prostitute. When he chuckled, buck teeth laughed with him. He was in the highest-tier of class-F, and was still working to make a name for himself.

"I've got no clue. Hey Pinky, what time is it? I should be heading back soon, before I drink myself to death." Aisha uttered, glancing down at Pinky's golden watch as soon as he raised it. She was already rising up off her seat. She blew them a kiss goodbye and then waved to Joe.

"Make sure you get that guy to play next week eh?" She slapped a bill onto the counter to split between Joe and the eager bartender who served her the most amazing liquor ever. She was out of the door faster than a blink, making sure to avoid Sterk's gaze, not caring about anything he probably said about her behind her back. It was after three, and she needed to get back to base and catch up with Blade. Perhaps the club had gone better than expected? She spit at the thought of Onyx dancing with other women, body to body in a sweat packed inferno of lust and booze. She felt the pull of the night again, and sunk into the shadows, moving faster than a blur through the city of lights.

"So rule of five, what the hell was that?" Trigger asked, grabbing Angela's shoulders and peering over her shoulder at the seventeen inch laptop screen. Her fingers were flying across the keyboard, and she had about thirteen tabs open in the web browser. She pressed a button on the side of the laptop and it synced up to a projector that hang from the ceiling, blowing up the image on a white wall.

"It's a class-S ability. See, the different classes have different titles associated with them once you reach the highest-tier of that class and have satisfied additional requirements. Now we've already taken note that each class from F to A has three tiers, lowest, middle-tier and the highest tier. We also know that class-S doesn't have tiers." Angela started to explain, using a laser pointer to point out the information on a different tab. "Rule of Five is only one of ten different abilities granted to class-S hunters. In fact, it's the only one listed everywhere I've looked. But get this. The Rule of Five gives a class-S mercenary the right to strip a lower ranked hunter, or team of hunters of their rank, registration, money, and their contract. Often the sentence is one of instant death, to take them completely off the grid." Angela spoke, bringing one of her hands up to her mouth.

Kokei shifted nervously. "So that creepy guy who wasn't Joe, he was a class-S hunter? Why'd he want us dead, we hadn't done anything to him!"

"It's because we sided with an Unspeakable." Angela answered flatly, closing two tabs and using the pointer to underline a new paragraph on the wall. "The moment Trigger went over to The Black Tiger's table, we allied with her. Do you remember? She's rank ten, and in the highest-tier class-B. To be an Unspeakable, you must primarily be an assassin, and have a career stealth-kill count of at least 100. You should consider us all lucky. If she wasn't there, then that guy would have easily torn us all to shreds."

"You sure about that? By himself, I believe we could take him quite easily." Panther spoke up. It was Trigger who discounted him.

"Listen guys. The Black Tiger, when she pulled me aside, she told me about that guy. Let's just say that he's got a record, and it's not pretty at all. Trust me, killing us would have been easier to him than blinking." Trigger informed. His team nodded in agreement. Trigger was a very serious man when the situation called for it, so no one had anything to say against him.

"What makes her so special? Wasn't she tipsy anyway?" Panther asked with one hand on his chin in a thinker's pose. Unintentionally, he offended Angela, who turned to him so quickly that he feared she'd get whiplash.

"Oh excuse me for there actually being strong women in the world! Don't you get it? She saved our asses back there. An Unspeakable has the capacity to counteract any ability involving malice while they're present. When she chose to defend, we got out of there with our lives. So as far as I see it, we should be finding her and kissing her feet, not praising some glass of liquor for protecting us!" She threw up her hands, and the other three men backed away an appropriate distance.

"I didn't mean it alright? What else can we find out? We've gotta go back tomorrow night, I mean do you see these checks?" Panther pulled his shiny check out of his pocket and stretched it lengthwise, making a sound. "Forget doing random ass odd jobs to pay the bills, we just made two hundred grand in a day!"

"What about Blade?" Kokei asked, turning all eyes to him. "Joe told us that he stops by now and again to collect his checks, I mean look at the guy, he's over thirty ranks higher than our entire team, and he's not even aware of his targets, he just does his job."

Panther rubbed his chin, the black hair there twisting into a small spiral. "Could you imagine if we went for the top dollar targets available to us? We'd rank up in no time, and become famous throughout the Nexus! I think this is the exact kind of thing Lee had in mind when he brought us together." He finished, refusing to acknowledge the negative memories trying to fill his skull.

"I'm in." Trigger said, approaching Panther's right shoulder. Kokei stood behind Panther's left shoulder and repeated the line. Angela giggled where she sat, the anger she'd felt earlier evaporating into nothingness.

"We'll take our first contract tomorrow then." She grinned from ear to ear. A new chapter was opening up for Vici, and fame and fortune suddenly seemed far closer than it had been in the past.

"You're still here?" Dr. Rashidli asked, genuine concern in her voice. She shut the door to Syfy's office behind her, taking several steps forward. There was only one light illuminating the room, a fluorescent bulb that cast an ethereal light over the mountain of paperwork that the general had before him. There were three different colored pens next to the mountain, and a fourth in his right hand. He signed the bottom of a stapled packet and flipped it over, having many more to go. "It's past four in the morning Jonathan, can't you go home and get rest?" Her voice was soft and soothing, and she placed her hands on his shoulders, gently massaging the kinks out of them. While he made no complaints, she knew from the moment she'd touched him that he wasn't going to go home.

"I've gotta get these expenses organized, covered and vouched for, write apologies to local businesses, fill out a full-scale report on Lotus being blown off the map, and file my goddamn taxes!" He yelled, voice escalating, even though his eyes were scanning more papers. His hands were scrawling signatures furiously, attempting to finish each piece of paper with the utmost urgency.

She placed her hand atop his to stop him from writing. He swiveled his chair to face her, and let out a deep sigh. It was going to be difficult dissuading her.

While her hands were holding each other in front of her, she bent down and placed her palm on his chest, feeling his heartbeat slowly, steadily drumming. He arched an eyebrow at her, and inside she laughed, though she didn't dare laugh at him on the outside. "You're getting bags under your eyes," she chided, staring deeply into them. She almost lost herself for a precious minute, but blinked and was back to business. He'd scoffed, though his heart betrayed him, for its beat quickened at her intense stare. "Listen, Me, Officer Dan, Dr. N and a couple of the other associates would like to go out tomorrow and celebrate you know? It's the beginning of a new financial year for us, and as always, we're keeping these streets clean, making good money, and keeping the Nexus safe." She moved closer, and his heart hammered against her hand.

"I can't." Syfy dismissed, suddenly looking at the floor. He looked weary, and his face had aged twenty years.

Dr. Rashidli pulled a stray piece of black hair behind one of her ears, and silenced his argument with a beautiful kiss. The sweet kiss lasted long enough to completely draw him in, and then she pulled away, leaving him hungry for more. She started to leave. "I know this is going to hurt you, but I just can't stop myself from caring about you." Her black, open-toed heels clicked along the floor as she left, leaving him open mouthed.

He did a legitimate face palm, and turned back toward his paperwork. When he picked up the red ink pen, he thought about Dr. Rashidli's lips, and about his long lost lover who he missed so dearly.

She was taking off a long, black sock that almost went up to her knee, when she heard a ringing noise. Stumbling to her feet, she pulled the tiny red bow at the top and flung the sock to the floor. She'd pick it up later, because she didn't like having her clothes on the floor.

Aisha made her way to the computer, which had a flashing LED light indicating a video message. She logged in with her custom username and password, being greeted by a background of one of her favorite book heroines whose name was Yukiko. There was a huge beast made of lightning behind her. Aisha spoke a code word into the computer's microphone, and a video message filled the screen. It was from Blade.

"Look Aisha, you might want to check this out, I'm sending you the coordinates to this base." Blade moved out of the way, and revealed Onyx arguing with a tall, athletic white woman. Aisha narrowed her eyes. As she watched Blade come back into focus, he spoke words as if he could see her. "I know you're fuming, but calm down girl. Coordinates 493 by 899, West side." Blade finished, cutting the transmission.

There was a fire crackling in her eyes. She roughly yanked on her socks and grabbed her two swords, making a dash out of the door. Ninja tabi fit perfectly over her small, silky feet, and didn't make any sound. She melted into the shadows, which stretched further than ever, allowing her to travel faster. She reached the coordinates in no time, and made her way into the black industrial forest that confronted her there. There were a few groups of homeless people gathered closely together around bonfires, some heating up their most recent meal found in trashcans down the street. Others held each other closely near ramshackle huts that only had three walls. Coughing and sniffling noses echoed in every direction, disease rampant in the area. Aisha kept her eyes forward, slipping beneath a hidden door to enter the underground base. She could already hear voices in the distance, and pushed her legs even harder through the winding maze of hallways.

Blade was tired of hearing them argue like children. He would have gone into meditation, but they were being too noisy. Onyx was demanding to know where Tiffany had heard her information about him, and Tiffany was busy brushing off his words. When Aisha entered the room brandishing both of her katanas, Tiffany turned to acknowledge her, and let out a sharp hiss befitting a vampire. He watched Aisha return the sound, her timbre fiercer, but overall, the note was shorter. That was just great. In a matter of seconds, the confrontation had turned from a ballbuster to a catfight.

"Who are you?" Aisha sniped, placing her swords on a nearby rack. Instead, her nails were pointy, and seemed to grow a few centimeters instantly. Her eyes turned red, and Tiffany's matched.

"I certainly didn't get here from China."

Aisha lunged forward, her hand choking around Tiffany's slender neck. They flipped in a full circle before Aisha's body weight slammed Tiffany to the ground, completely knocking the wind out of her. Her knees dove into Tiffany's slim stomach, making the vampire cough vehemently. When she could manage to painfully draw in a meager amount of breath, Tiffany kicked Aisha away, standing to her feet again.

"Did I strike a nerve?" Tiffany taunted, red lines still glaring bright on her neck from Aisha's tight grip. A growl was Aisha's comeback. Tiffany plastered a snooty look on her face. "How about a wager? If you beat me in a fight, I'll leave you alone. If I win however, you have to leave here and never come back." Tiffany smirked.

Aisha wasn't blindsided by the obvious unbalance of the terms, but she accepted anyway. From the corner of her eye, she saw Onyx about to intercede, but Blade stopped him short. The day-walker was being awfully calm about this entire thing. Perhaps this girl had more useful information that he could use? Or perhaps Blade was just confident in her own abilities? She'd like to believe the latter.

"Can I change first?" She asked Tiffany, her voice considerably more humble than it was minutes ago. Tiffany nodded her assent.

"Whatever you want huh? I don't believe you'd be the type to cheat, from what I know about you." She had a sneaky grin on her face, nonetheless, Aisha bowed slightly before leaving the room. Even though she'd never been to this base before, she knew that Blade would have exactly the outfit she needed here, and a training room that would fit the description of the perfect place for their face off.

Using intuition alone, she found the clothes she required, and then changed in a bathroom. She pulled a silky black top over her wrapped torso, folding the collar neatly with the right side of the top over left. She pulled up baggy pants made of the same fabric and then tied a beautiful red sash around her waist, forming a bow at the small of her back. She took the braids in her hair out, and it fell down as low as the bow, in straight, black lines. Her hair took on a beautiful shine when capturing the light, each follicle seeming to hold it hostage. Using a hair tie, she pulled back two groups of bangs on either side of her forehead, and bound them together in a hoop. She let the rest of her hair rest in the center of the hoop. She smiled in the mirror, feeling very beautiful, even though she hadn't dressed in a formal sparring outfit in ages. Finally, she tied a short headband around her head, weaving it through her hair expertly. She was ready to fight.

"Don't you already owe us intel?" Onyx asked Tiffany. "You're supposed to be telling us why you're after Blade, and how you can help. I hardly think you're in a position to be making side bets with Aisha." He crossed his arms over his chest.

Tiffany regarded him with a sweet smile. She crossed the distance between them, boldly pressing her body against his, emerald eyes shattering his defenses. "Listen here Mr. Carter," Tiffany started, when Aisha returned to the room.

Blade led them all to a room decorated entirely from ceiling to floor in blue. The floor was covered in sparring mats, and made of well-cushioned material. The walls were made of the same material, looking as if they could take a few slams. To demonstrate, Blade crushed his fist into a section of the wall, which left a definitive casting of his hand before slowly returning to its original shape. "No shoes, no weapons, no killing." Blade governed, and both of the girls stepped onto the mat.

"Aisha Yamakita," the first vampire introduced, bowing slightly with her eyes closed, her sleeves much too wide for her arms.

"Tiffany Scott," the taller vampire replied, also bowing, but not as deeply as Aisha. Blade watched them closely. It was purely speculation, but perhaps the differences in their level of respect for each other also coincided with their differences in skill.

Aisha immediately took a deep stance, one leg extended and the other bent, her right hand pulled back and bent at the elbow as if she was about to punch, while her left arm stayed our slightly bent at the center, also holding a fist. Opposite her, Tiffany began the rhythmic, dancing motions of Capoeira, her eyes sharp and piercing, focused with an insurmountable determination. She was the first to strike.

A midsection kick launched through the air at Aisha's ribs. Aisha adjusted her stance and neatly blocked the kick, securing Tiffany's ankle in place. Tiffany propelled herself off the ground, using the momentum of spinning to try and kick Aisha's face. Aisha used her free hand to grab Tiffany's other foot, and flip her over. Tiffany's body banged into the floor mat, making her grunt in frustration. She lifted herself back up, starting to move again. Aisha lunged forward, then feigned a punch, laughing when Tiffany struck back at her, taking the bait. Aisha advanced swiftly, locking her small foot behind Tiffany's advancing foot. Her elbow knocked Tiffany's punch skyward, and her palm smacked against Tiffany's abdomen. It was almost over.

Onyx saw a slight glow in Aisha's hands while she fought. One moment she'd be parrying a blow, the wide black sleeves hiding her strike, and the next, a quick, explosive attack would leave her foe stunned. He couldn't tell if the style was more beautiful or brutal, but one thing rang true no matter what: Aisha knew her stuff. Onyx watched Tiffany stumble, Aisha stomping down in front of her, and cuffing her in the gut so hard, she fell flat on her back. "What style is that?" He asked Blade. Onyx had never seen Aisha fight without her swords, and couldn't identify her martial art. The quick, extremely powerful blows reminded him of Muay Thai, but the stances were entirely different. Additionally, so far Aisha hadn't tried to kick once, whereas Tiffany's style was predominately kicking.

"It's Wushu, the fighting style is called Bajiquan." Blade answered, without taking his eyes off the fight.

"Chinese martial arts then, I'm kinda surprised. Doesn't Aisha come from Japan?" Onyx asked, but Blade showed no intention of acknowledging the question. If Onyx wanted to know personal things about Aisha, he could ask her himself.

Tiffany couldn't touch her. Minutes passed, but she was just wasting energy. Aisha's attacks did collateral damage as well, so she couldn't heal easily from them. A few times, she'd thought about grabbing Aisha's sleeves and using them against her, but no sooner than she'd gotten a good grip, Aisha reclaimed her fabric, and landed another perilous punch. Tiffany was already bruised in several places. Her eyes were glowing red, and her breathing came in quick, raspy bursts. It shouldn't have been this hard. Just who the hell was this girl?

Aisha was through playing. She shifted into her final stance, feet together arms in the same position as when she'd started. In a furious rush, Tiffany swung at her hard, and the fight ended in that same moment. Aisha ducked, then punched Tiffany two times in the chest, following with a forceful push to unbalance her, then finally fiercely slashing her elbow across Tiffany's face. The slug was so powerful, the strike so unyielding that blood sloshed onto the floor. Tiffany lay almost motionless on the mat, clutching her face and twitching. Her body had gone into light shock, and Onyx went down on the mat, bloodying himself in the process. Tiffany's body was already healing though, so it was completely unnecessary.

Aisha ignored the small squirming emotion that wriggled in the pit of her stomach. "I'm sure you'll follow through on your terms now." Aisha directed, waving her arm. It took Tiffany three more minutes to finally rise to her feet, but she was fine. The blood that came from an open wound on her face was all on her sleeve, and the wound was already scabbing over, ready to be replaced by new skin cells.

Tiffany clung to Onyx's shoulder. "I said I'd leave _you _alone. I didn't say anything about this fine hunk of man here." Tiffany ran her hand down Onyx's abs, while Aisha huffed in annoyance. Blade did the same.

"Oh trust me, you're cleaning that shit up when this discussion is over," Blade threatened, casting a disgusted glance at the stained mats. He led them away and into the main computer room.

"Got it, day-walker." Tiffany casually replied. She took note that the room was protected by hand print scanners and a security code. Nevertheless, she could reproduce neither, even though she scrutinized Blade's motions thoroughly.

"Whatchu got for us?"

Tiffany pulled up a chair in front of a huge monitor and started typing. Onyx was about to stop her, since she didn't have any administrator's password, but she quickly negated his argument by using command prompt to create an administrator account with all-access privileges. "You remember the girls that didn't torch like they were supposed to? The ones we discussed earlier. I know why they didn't die, or at least why it took so long for them to turn into ashes." Tiffany pulled up a window. Aisha watched from the background, though she wasn't as closely engrossed as Blade and Onyx.

"Blood. It's all in their blood." Tiffany brought up a picture of a vial of plasma, corked at the tip. "Vladimir Drovsky's blood to be exact. Some call it only a legend, but the facts are there. His blood is connected, as you've probably already guessed, to the progenitor of the vampire race, and bestows biological resilience to the things that kill us instantly. However, I have no idea how the blood works, whether it's ingested or injected, or the genetic traits required to even be able to contain the cells within the body." Tiffany moved out of the way, while Blade followed a few links across several occult websites.

"A ring, a sword, a shield, and a hook. Each of these proclaimed to belong to the same guy, Vladimir. Guess which one we already have?" Blade, pulled out the humongous shield adorned with a fierce lion. It perfectly matched the onscreen version, though was much more majestic and awe-inspiring up close. The equipment remained motionless. "I wonder how Jason activated this thing."

"So you killed him then?" Tiffany piped up. In the next moment, she was seething, making a face more suitable for a garden gnome. "Give the shield to her," Tiffany pouted, jerking her index finger at Aisha as if she were an animal.

Blade tossed her the shield and immediately, the lion sprang to life with a mighty roar. This startled Aisha, causing her to drop the shield to the ground where it lay, lifeless once again.

"It reacts to spirit energy. That's Reiki, or Chi, if you didn't know. Not only that, it requires sustained focus and a strong will to maintain." Tiffany amended, though her face was still twisted with a badly concealed hatred.

"So what about these other legendary artifacts, the sword, the hook and the ring? They're all valued at over a million dollars, what can we find out about them and their connection to Vladimir?" Onyx asked. There was a small commotion behind him. He turned his head, and Aisha was gone.

Tiffany shrugged her shoulders. "That's all I can get for now. But there's an artifacts museum on the corner of Gay and Jefferson Park with an impressive databank..." Tiffany let her words trail off on purpose, but Blade got the message.

"If your intel is wrong, I'll tear your head off your shoulders." Blade whispered lethally. Then he shut down his computer systems, picking up the dormant shield which lay on the floor. "Now go clean up that blood, I want my mats spotless. Oh, and have a good night, but consider your stay temporary, Tiffany." He swept away from the room, leaving the two to stand there in the dark dumbfounded.

Panther opened the double doors, like the men from the CIA had done the day before. Perhaps he was walking on clouds, but his chest swelled with pride upon seeing the familiar setting which was already becoming a second home to him. At the marble bar, Joe grinned and winked at them, returning to vivacious chatter and cleaning a spotless glass in his hand with a long white rag.

They found a table. Conversations blended together around them, the ceiling lights flickering on and off to the beat of a new band up front, the lead who had jet black hair slicked back by too much hair grease, bellowing out lyrics while other members of the band drummed behind him. The metallic tip-box on the ground beside them already read four hundred and twenty dollars. As always, Panther scanned the room for any faces that might stick out to him. He could only recall a few people from the grand list he'd mentally photographed the night before, but didn't see The Black Tiger or the class-S man in black. In fact, while there were some beefy, muscular and deadly people in the building, he didn't see anyone that went beyond rank 25. Hell, this was as good a place as any to start.

When a timid female bartender came up to them, Kokei ordered sodas for the table. Panther waved at Joe instead, asking for the night's special. This was part of Vizuela's code, and meant that he'd wanted the top targets available to him and his team. Joe beckoned him over, and Panther nodded to the rest of Vici before leaving. They returned the show of respect.

"Learning quickly eh?" Joe whispered, fanning out five pieces of paper before him. When Panther looked at them at first, they were nothing but empty sheets of printer paper, as plain as the brown bearded smile on Joe's face. Joe grabbed Panther's hand rather abruptly and stamped it on each piece of paper, causing mean, dirty, scarred faces to appear on each piece the moment he touched them. "Three vampires, two humans, take your pick." Joe crossed his huge arms over his barrel chest, waiting. The highest valued target was a vampire nicknamed Blue Suede, though he was worth only half of Jason's bounty.

After selecting, Joe handed him the paper, shaking his hand and binding the contract non verbally. The back of the paper filled with information, including the places where Blue Suede was seen last, how many kills he'd mustered in the last three months, and spots where he could most likely be found. Panther thanked Joe, who waved him away. Two fraternal twins took his place, and were asking about their next available quarries.

Panther took a seat, automatically popping the top on his orange Sunkist soda, and taking several large swallows. He smacked the paper on the table, inhaled the smell of cigarette smoke and slight incense, and stared each member of the team in their eyes. "So guys, how fast can we take this one down?"

The next day, Blade cruised through the city on his motorcycle, mind scattered in thousands of different places. He'd done his research, just to double check Tiffany's information. Sure enough, exactly where she'd said there was a huge excavation company complete with a recently updated archeology museum. He'd gone through several sources to confirm their recent findings, and believed their databases would in fact contain the information he needed about the shield. In addition, since the shield was already over a century old, their systems would have to have information about Vladimir, whether speculation or not. Blade ignored any legal implications he'd have to face, trespassing onto private property, breaking and entering into such a large company, even when they were closed, plus illegally securing protected data. His mission was always greater than the common crimes committed by delinquents in the Nexus, and ending the vampire race, the stigma he'd been contributing to for decades now, was always going to yield the same result—helping humanity in the end—no matter how he achieved the means.

There was something else that unnerved him though. Even further back than he'd liked to remember, another event had taken place an intersection with the same exact street names, though in Detroit rather than the Nexus. Put simply, it was the first time he ever killed a human, having been betrayed by a false lead and corrupt information. He'd disobeyed Whistler's warnings, and in the end paid a price much too great for his misguided actions. The motorcycle engine drowned out any further speculation, and he whipped it neatly into a parking space in the rear of the building, which went up almost thirty stories into the sky. Glass spanned every side of the building, except for the bottom two floors, which made up the museum and gift shop. Those were ringed in brick.

The building was closed, but Blade had no trouble unlocking an Employees Only entrance, and quietly securing the door shut behind him. He cautiously navigated through the building, preparing to be stopped by a human, a vampire, or even an alarm system, however there were none. Once he left the museum area, Blade sprinted up five flights of stairs just in case, before punching a button to call an elevator. There was no keycard system, and the metal doors opened for him invitingly. Blade somersaulted into the elevator, taking a shot at the security camera in the corner of the ceiling and destroying it.

Country tunes that were old as the exhibits on display eased their way into the elevator, making Blade want to fall asleep. The floor counter beeped past the 15th floor, making Blade tap his foot impatiently. Once he reached the executive office, he crouched close to the floor, while the elevator doors opened. Blade was liquid motion.

No sooner than the doors opened, Blade bounded into the room, vaulting off the walls and climbing into an open ceiling vent. Grateful that he'd studied blueprints of the building beforehand, Blade climbed through the cramped air vents, making as little noise as possible. After turning a few corners, he kicked the door beneath him, and snatched it before it could bang against the ground. Using thick ropes, Blade lowered himself into the office, the emblem of a Tyrannosaurus with a gaping maw watching him closely. He carefully crouched in the executive's chair, making sure not to move it or let his feet touch the ground. Blade proceeded to log into the computer, finding the password stored in a logbook within the ornate wooden desk.

It took fifteen minutes for Blade to find the information he was searching for, and an additional ten to download the huge files in their database. He wiped his head as sweat beaded there, thanking some God in the sky that things were going so smoothly. His thick gloves typed a few more keys on the black keyboard, and Blade extracted his flash drive, carefully shutting down the system afterward. He let out a huge sigh, standing up in the swiveling chair to stretch his legs. It wasn't exactly easy to stay settled in a chair that way for so long. There was no way in hell Blade would take a chance at touching the floor, no matter how innocent the complimentary blue carpet looked. Not to mention the company's logo, which watched him patronizingly, as if it knew his secrets.

Sunlight streaked through the huge window behind him, temporarily blinding him. Ignoring this too, Blade climbed back up the heavy-duty ropes, and replaced the door to the air vent. He navigated back to the elevator without a hitch, though he had to destroy another camera, as the second elevator was a different one. Going down, Blade watched a small television monitor beside the floor counter rattle off the day's weather, and talk about recent company policy updates. He watched with disinterest as a 79 year old man from California held up bones he'd found in his backyard of a prehistoric Ankylosaurus. The town heralded him as a hero, and the man claimed to be buying a new house with the two million dollars he'd sold the bones for. Blade scoffed. No one appreciated things that were older and more valuable than people ever knew. Truly, the world was moving closer and closer to self-destruction, money counting down the final moments of humans as it changed hands endlessly, sacrificing many lives in the process.

Blade got off the elevator on the sixth floor, and took the polished stairway down to the museum level. He retraced his steps past ancient Egyptian tablets, bones of prehistoric humans and animals, and archaic pottery. When he reached the doorway of his entry, his turned the knob, and it froze midway, locking earnestly. Blade whirled around, suddenly aware of every shadow in the museum. The door had been tampered with, the lock blocked off from the outside. The only way out now was the front door, or through a window, and in the middle of the day, neither seemed too plausible. Blade found himself hugging the walls and going back into the building, weaving around exhibits and displays, always keeping an eye out for stray cameras, which he would take out with his silenced pistol. He didn't see any. In a heavily split decision, Blade decided that leaving through the front door was a better option.

Blade unlocked a pair of the front doors, and stepped back into the sunlight. Nothing greeted him, except a lengthy marble staircase which led to the building. He ducked around the side of the edifice, going out of his way to cross a street in case he was being followed. More often than he'd liked, Blade glanced over his shoulder, paying no attention to the curious faces of the many citizens that gazed back at him either in curious wonder or oblivious confusion. When he reached his motorcycle, Blade started it up, and the engine stalled. When he looked back up, he was surrounded by SPECS squad cars. He quickly found Jonathan among the bunch, one of his hands outstretched toward him, a white glove addressing him alone.

"You can surrender now day-walker. You know the laws you've broken, and the crimes you've committed." Jonathan spoke. Blade hopped off his motorcycle, finding a quick escape route in his surroundings. If he could run and time it just right...

Blade skidded behind an ice cream truck, and bullets deflected off of the heavy exterior. Inside, a man with an embarrassing pink hat dropped to the ground covering his head with his hands, while cops swarmed the vehicle. Blade took off in a full sprint, hopping over cars and ducking between pedestrian bodies. He heard Jonathan command the officers to give chase. Blade pushed a button on a pocket sized radio at his hip, calling Onyx for backup. He pressed it again and explained the situation. There was no response. A woman screamed when Blade shoved her out of his way, leaping over a stroller, and disappearing inside a department store. Within minutes, the building was on lockdown, with no one able to finalize a purchase, enter, or exit the building. Blade was already out the back, but still didn't have an answer from Onyx, though he'd already left five video messages on the computer. What the hell was he doing? He patched a message through to Onyx's cell phone, which gave him an instant voicemail. Pissed, he hid in the center of four apartment complexes, after jumping a tall, whitewashed fence. He had to catch his breath, but the paranoia of Jonathan's lackeys being nearby wouldn't quit. Huffing, he sent more SOS messages, and continued moving, now in a slower paced jog.

"You hear something?" Onyx asked, using his arms to push his back up against the headboard. His chest was gleaming with sweat, which beaded up and slid intimately down the hard crevices of his body. Tiffany's hand caressed it entirely, while she moved closer to him, pressing her smooth naked body against his. She guided one of his hands down to a piece of her that was on fire for him.

"No." Tiffany lied, ending the word on a moan. Instantly, she threw herself on Onyx, and forcefully captured his mouth with hers. His hands went straight to her hips, and her body undulated for him sensually. Though breaking skin would mean her doom, she bit carefully along his neck, making him cry out. She grinned sexily when one spot elicited such a groan that his body spasmed, his hand knocking his cellphone off the nightstand nearby, where it came apart, battery and all, onto the hard floor below. She framed his face with her delicate hands and loved on him even more. By that time, SPECS should have been neatly set in place, due to the anonymous call she'd made to them that morning.

Tiffany kissed her way down Onyx's abs, making him groan. Her tongue swirled over tightly packed muscle, and she suckled at collected pools of sweat. Nipping at his hips, he spread his legs wider for her, and a huge smile stretched across her face. She licked her lips before taking in all of him.

Kyle picked up the silver, folded-steel blade and sliced it through the air, cutting a leaf into four pieces, which landed stacked on top of each other. He picked up the gleaming black blade and repeated the process, making a perfect stack of eight sections of leaf. He glanced at Aisha blushing only slightly. Using a large stone which seemed unsuited for the task, Kyle began to sharpen the black blade, creating sparks as he did so. "I love these things." Kyle smiled, unable to hide his admiration of the katanas. The weight on them was perfect, their style magnanimous, their handling, excellent. In fact, Kyle projected that these blades would be able to last another thousand years without losing their durability, sharpness, or beauty. Aisha wasn't like the day-walker, she fulfilled the contract she had with her weapons daily, which meant that their performance would always be top notch for as long as she lived and the swords were in her possession.

"Hear anything interesting lately?" Aisha asked him, leaning against the counter, gazing into Kyle's eyes much too familiarly. They'd known each other for quite a while and she liked to mess with him this way, since she knew he crushed on her.

"The winds are blowing as swiftly as ever Aisha Chan," Kyle answered, cleaning her swords with care. She raised an eyebrow, but wasn't offended by his speech. Kyle was a good man, and very honorable at that, however; he was a decade too late to be pursuing her, even if she was a vampire. "Check it out." Kyle raised his chin toward the old fashioned television, which was held to a corner of the store by a complicated medley of metallic bars. Blade was on television, a news helicopter catching an aerial view of him running from several black, armored officers. Aisha's eyes got big for a second, and she prepared to leave, but the moment she reached for her swords, Kyle swatted her hands away.

"You can pick them up in three hours," he explained strictly, needing no further words. Aisha dashed through the door, almost taking it off the hinges. Kyle sighed, but continued cleaning the blades, a surreal glow radiating off of the expertly folded metal. Two foxes battled each other on the thick tsuba that protected the holder's fingers. Kyle studied the artwork closely, bowing deeply to show the katanas respect. He sheathed the blades, and put them both at his right side. Slowly, Kyle relaxed his breathing, taking a battle stance, legs bent into a slight crouch.

"Iai!" Kyle screamed, drawing the silver blade so swiftly, that it was invisible to the naked eye. He cleanly cut an immense horizontal line in the brick wall opposite him. "Iai!" He yelled again, switching to draw with his right hand, and slashing vertically in one grand, smooth motion. This carved an enormous cross in the wall. He sheathed both blades and ran his fingers along the impressions. He could almost place his entire pinky into the depth of the slash. "Looks like they work well." Kyle spoke silently, going to his phone to answer a phone call.

Blade cursed, pressing himself against the wall at his back. How they'd cornered him like this, he would never understand. An arm reached for him, and he jumped forward, slamming the officer on the ground, and knocking him unconscious. Two more came at him, like a hydra, and he finished them too with lethal strikes. He hadn't gone undamaged though, and the combination of sprinting and fighting put a serious strain on his endurance. When the last officer tasted asphalt, Jonathan slowly walked forward, an urgently curved dagger in his right hand. The weapon whirred mechanically, and emitted a series of ticks loud enough to annoy him to death. Much to his chagrin, an unmarked black car pulled up, and emptied, revealing SWAT officers with assault rifles. There was no way he'd escape.

Jonathan wordlessly approached. He had Officer Dan bar the area from media access, summarily sending away news teams and the large helicopter that floated overhead with a signal. While each member of the advanced team placed neon green dots all over Blade, he stalked forward without fear. The only weapon Blade had on him was the silenced pistol, and after using the only bullets to take out security cameras, Jonathan was absolutely sure that it was empty. He attacked Blade, and landed a searing scrape to his bicep with the dagger, which made the day-walker yell out in pain. He knocked Syfy backward, but his opponent didn't fall.

Whirring louder, the six inch dagger expanded and became a foot-long tanto. Instead of having a conventional guard over the handle, there were two knives that arrowed back toward Jonathan's body. Blade thought he could use this to his advantage, so when he lumbered forward to attack, he made sure to avoid the longest edge, while trying to get Jonathan to cut himself. His plan backfired when Jonathan launched the knife into Blade's chest, the force impacting him so strongly that it blew him off his feet.

Blade screamed in agony when the two shorter edges came apart, and pierced his skin, forming a large triangle of puncture points that bled candidly. He tried to pry the tanto out of his skin, but it burned him whenever his fingers touched it. Struggling futilely, Blade could do nothing but rock to and fro while the whirring tanto remained in his torso.

Jonathan stomped Blade's abdomen and removed the tanto, condensing it back down into the six inch dagger. He lifted Blade off the ground and slammed him into the brick wall at his back, somehow busting open the day-walker's lip. "It's over, so come quietly." Jonathan whispered, a quickly concealed chuckle ending the statement.

Blade could not move. His arms hang limp at his sides, and there was a burning inside his body that he couldn't explain. While all his senses worked, sometimes they blended into each other at odd intervals, making him unsure if what he was seeing was real, or if the sounds he heard actually existed. Jonathan came face to face with him, and punched him to the ground. His body fell like a ragdoll into a crumpled heap. He smiled, despite his situation, small fangs showing in his mouth. If nothing else, he could always count on Aisha to be there, coated in her special black hoodie whose material protected her from sunlight.

"Sir, there's a vampire!" An observant SWAT officer cried, before gagging on his words. He chucked his helmet away and vomited up his insides. Horrible black and green liquid erupted from his mouth, and then dripped down his chin, his body quaking while he lurched again. Before he could say anything else, his body split like a bridge collapsing from the middle outward. Blood gushed from both halves, the officer was never able to stand.

Aisha's chi lashed out like a black octopus, creating chaos all around her. Assault rifles misfired, and instead killed off teammates in a terrifying display of blood and bullets. After acrobatically kicking off his helmet, Aisha crushed her palm into a man's face so hard that the skull broke, the skin sinking into the empty space like quicksand. Before Syfy could turn around, she was signaling for Blade to run, imbuing his body with some of her otherworldly life energy.

"I've got him, just go!" Aisha demanded, and Blade didn't need telling twice. Syfy shifted his focus, and stabbed at her. She twisted out of the dagger's reach, and crashed to the ground with him, Jonathan's body colliding with the concrete first, his hands bloody as they slapped the rough asphalt. The dagger skidded away. Aisha bared fangs and held Jonathan by his throat, effectively choking him. She cuffed him across the face with sharp nails and left four purple lines on his bronzed skin. Taking the opportunity as soon as it came, Aisha crushed her thighs around Jonathan's arms, preventing him from moving them.

"Why are you after Blade?" She screamed, body trembling, outraged. For a few seconds that lasted forever, she kept her chokehold firmly on him, watching his face change hues, veins suddenly popping up all over his face. When she was satisfied, she finally released his neck roughly so that he could breathe. She didn't expect to hear what she did several scratchy, pained breaths later.

Syfy turned his communicator off with his voice. He could hear Dr. Rashidli barking warnings, and knew it was doing nothing more than pissing off the vampire on top of him. In fact, once again, this was the same vampire he'd seen a few days ago. The one he'd spared for an unknown reason. The very one who by the same token, had chosen not to attack him. "Why did you save Blade?" He countered, receiving another vicious scratch across the face as a reply.

"Do not ask me anything."

Truly, the woman looked scary, her long straight hair pouring out of her head like black tendrils, red eyes soul-devouring, yet strangely captivating at the same time. Her strength was also admirable, because he'd been trying his hardest to escape the clench of her thighs since the moment she'd pinned his arms and hadn't been able to move an inch. He sighed, a long, weary note, and looked into her eyes. Why, he didn't know, but he found himself spilling everything.

"Listen...I lost her, I lost Jade." Jonathan tried, but could not wipe the tears that formed in his eyes. "She was my everything, down to the deepest levels of my heart. We'd been together for five years, planning to be together forever since the day we graduated high school." He screwed up his face to concentrate, but his mental dam was breaking. He could visualize her patient, compassionate smile and the way her eyes softened whenever he was near her. He'd never forget their first kiss under the sunset next to the hugest sequoia he'd ever seen. In fact, it was painfully simple for Syfy to remember the exact day he began wedding planning with Jade, and her face when she told him yes on that day, engagement or not.

Aisha watched the painful emotions fly over his face. She listened to his voice and could hear nothing but bitter honesty. As he continued his rendition, his chest gyrated irregularly, his voice hitching. Even with as much pride as this man had to have in him, he truly was sad and couldn't hide it. Her expression assuaged his initial fear, and once again she had an intense desire to reach down and stroke his face, rather than to interrogate him any further.

"But then there was the great Vampire-Human War...and Blade took her, I swear it. Just like that, the best thing I've ever had slipped through my fingers. I was fighting for her! I put my life on the line so that we'd have a future together, just me and her." Jonathan's voice was becoming hysterical. Aisha watched his face scrunch together, practically feeling the stinging tears that fell down the sides of his precious eyes. "That was the last time I'd seen her. The last time I'd ever set eyes on my caramel-skinned queen. It's been ten years, but I know she's alive, I'm sure of it. In fact, I've never been so certain of anything in my life." Syfy suddenly became serious, the accustomed fearlessness creeping back into his persona, even though the scratches on his face still throbbed with a dull pain. He also couldn't hide the trail of tears going down his cheeks, or the slight snot buildup in his nose. "Have you ever lost everything in one moment? Do you know how it feels to have an entire future stolen away by uncertainty? By a vampire?" Jonathan asked loudly. His arms were going numb, and as he spoke, he had to stop multiple times to cough, or stutter between his words. His throat felt constricted, but he didn't allow the pain there to show.

Aisha shook her head and rocked uncomfortably. As if she didn't know his pain? Though her straddle over his arms and waist was still solid, her mind drowned with empathy for him. Tears fell from her eyes as well and dotted his face. She leaned closer, staring into his crying eyes. He didn't hide from her, even though her irises were still blood-red and she could kill him without a second thought. It hadn't mattered to him at all that she was a vampire. Aisha could see it all too clearly, the emotions were always too raw, no matter how much time had passed. Her home shooting up in flames crackling louder than lightning while everything she'd ever known as a child turned into cinders. Her parents' voices silenced by gunshots fired by teenage bandits getting off on violence. Her brother screaming for her to get on the boat for America...The sound of her sobs when she realized that she'd taken the wrong ferry and was stuck at sea going to a country she'd never even heard of. She remembered the smell of musky alcohol and green spit, and the unimaginable pain of the bite that cursed her forever, robbing her of her humanity before she'd even had the chance to live on her own. Before she'd even had a chance to try loving anyone. Aisha's bones filled with loneliness, and she trembled slightly. More tears fell onto his surprised face. "I do." Aisha hiccupped, rising off him. She gave him one final glance, before drawing on the shadows nearby, and vanishing.


	7. Chapter 6: Noblesse Oblige

**Chapter Six**

Aisha slipped into the room silently. She didn't need to though, because the room was already in an uproar. Remnants of broken chairs were scattered everywhere and Blade was rounding on Onyx, who stood defensively behind a table. After matching his motions to stay as far away from Blade as possible, Onyx retreated. Blade overturned the entire table, throwing it out of the way like it was a football. Aisha watched the subordinate draw a weapon, and have it knocked futilely out of his hands. Tiffany stood on the sidelines, away from the potential combatants. Aisha had to make a sharp noise to draw Blade's attention to her, and away from killing Onyx. The atmosphere of the room changed dynamically when Blade acknowledged her existence.

"What took you so long?" He growled, standing straight. Aisha could tell he was fighting to keep his anger in check, and his chest was heaving quickly, bulked up because his blood was spiked with adrenaline. She could smell it, and it produced a longing inside her that was all too familiar. Yet again, she would have to ignore it.

"SPECS had reinforcements. After taking care of them, I had to go reclaim my katanas from the shop." She plastered a look of disgust on her face, and stroked one of the sheaths lovingly. Aisha knew that her acting was on point, and that Blade would buy into it. She didn't know why she felt the need to lie about Jonathan though, but her gut told her to, and her intuition rarely disappointed her.

Blade nodded, and then turned his fury back to Onyx. "Where was my apprentice at huh? Five years I've taken just to train you for moments like this, and when I call the base and even your goddamn cell phone, you don't pick up? Do you think I do this for fun? Do you think this is a fucking joke?" Blade closed the distance between them, and lifted Onyx off his feet, throwing him to the ground just like he had the table. Onyx hadn't seemed scared this time though, sluggishly recovering as best he could without showing any pain.

"I'm tired of being on the sidelines in these kind of situations." He dusted off his elbows, and stood to his feet, puffing out his chest and slapping it. "I want to be a partner, not a minion. I'm not your getaway driver! I might have been with you for a decade, but I'm not dumb enough to play number two for the rest of my life just because you say so." Onyx walked up to Blade, slightly towering over the day-walker. The boldness of the act made Blade laugh. He couldn't control the malevolent thought that entered his mind at the affront.

Blade shoved him away, tossing Tiffany the flash drive. "Check the contents." Blade commanded, ignoring Onyx.

Tiffany sighed considerably. Her heart had been racing the moment Blade's brown eyes found hers. This time she wasn't blushing, but fearful for her life. If there was any hint at all, whether on her persona, or in some outside information source that she'd called SPECS earlier that morning, her life was as good as over. Maintaining the facade under his stare took an enormous amount of diligence. Additionally, the amount of adrenaline coursing through Blade's body was above average, and she didn't want to know the limits of the strength he had. There were many rumors surrounding the day-walker and the scores of vampires he had slain, most of the ones that put him into the tomes of legend involved what he could do with his bare hands and adrenaline inspired intelligence, not what he could do while armed with guns. She caught the flash drive gingerly and carefully walked away, being sure to keep a neutral expression. Tiffany could feel both Aisha and Blade's eyes on her back, and she knew that Aisha was scrutinizing her more closely than she needed to.

When Tiffany plopped back down in front of the monitor that was becoming familiar to her, she logged in again and copied the flash drive's contents to the desktop, encrypting them as she did so. There was no need for her to arouse suspicion, especially at this point in time, when Blade's nerves were on edge. Once the transfer was finished, she started sorting through the important files, eyes scanning pages and pages of documents. After some time, Blade began tapping his foot impatiently, which made her speed up her search. For once, Aisha had found a chair and was observing silently, while Onyx leaned against the doorway. His arms were crossed rigidly over his chest, the effects of the argument still written across his face.

Aisha crossed her legs, watching with disinterest. So far, she'd been double-checking each file that Tiffany laid eyes on, speed-reading each document before she closed it. She wanted to find something hidden, some secret Tiffany withheld from them all, but there wasn't one. There also wasn't any atypical development in Blade's acquisition of the data. It was only natural that after breaking into such an important skyscraper, SPECS would be hunting Blade down, but it troubled her that he had gotten pinned down. She'd been Blade's ally for years now, and that type of thing almost never happened to him. Usually, no matter what the situation, Blade either had the one up on his opponents, or knew how to get it. Maybe Blade's reflexes were getting gradually slower...perhaps he really was going to die and leave them...

"Here it is." Tiffany spoke urgently, turning her head back to address everyone in the room. She pulled up a highly detailed document innocently titled Medieval Research Essay 7. The first artifact that they recognized was the shield. The document listed all of its specifications, including an exceptionally organized section on harnessing chi, and using it to animate the shield. Tiffany kept scrolling and reading to herself, when she came upon something and frowned. "We need to check this data for accuracy. Can one of you go grab the shield please?"

No one moved for five of the longest seconds, but eventually, Blade stalked out of the room, locking the door behind him. The remaining three visibly startled once they heard the lock trip. Suddenly they were painfully aware that Blade could abandon them all if he wanted to. With one trip of the power, it would only be a matter of time before at the very least, Aisha and Tiffany would be at each other's throats. The oxygen in the air seemed to thin immediately. After two minutes, Aisha and Tiffany locked eyes but neither of them said a word. Tension hovered in the atmosphere like an invisible cloud, placing his huge hands on both of their shoulders.

Blade reentered the room, holding the huge, circular shield in his right hand. He beckoned for Aisha to stand, and gave it to her. Onyx neither spoke nor moved; he was still in a funk.

Tiffany got out of her chair, and stood in front of Aisha. The shield remained quiescent, the lion on the front intimidating, but no more real than a piece of gravel. The eyes were encrusted with rubies, giving the creature a gloomy, ethereal presence. The craftsmanship was extraordinary, definitely vampire in nature. "Activate it." Tiffany demanded, pointing, and then retracting her finger quickly, because the lion's head sprang to life, snapping its jaws at her. It let out a roar. Tiffany began circling Aisha, watching the shield intelligently track her movements. "Aisha, I'm going to tell you to do something in the next fifteen seconds, and without thinking about it, can you do it for me?" She made sure to keep her voice serious, and Aisha gave her assent. For the next couple of seconds, Tiffany kept up her predatory circling, then told Aisha to throw the shield.

Aisha obeyed, gasping when the light shield flew out of her hands as fast as a bullet, knocking Tiffany off her feet easily. It banged noisily on two walls and then Aisha caught it perfectly, the leather straps securing tightly into place on her left arm.

"Jason used it that way as well. It's gotta be akin to technology that's in military homing missiles right?" Blade asked, chuckling when Tiffany cursed him while standing.

"Could have let me in on that two minutes ago for fuck's sake." She relaxed her breathing, but still felt a pain in her chest that wouldn't go away. If they were in any other situation, she would've held Aisha accountable for the pain, but she did not. She had to be mature about this. Timing was everything.

"Perhaps I needed a little entertainment to brighten up my day." Blade offered with a chuckle. Tiffany had to ignore him, or her snide remark would slip between her lips.

"No Blade, it isn't military technology, it's something even deeper and more mystical than that. Think of the shield as a samurai would their blade. The weapon acts as an inanimate extension of a swordsman. Without a weapon, a samurai is nothing more than a disgrace, a common man unbound by the code of the bushido. Well, think of Aisha and the shield as one. Aisha channels her chi into the shield to literally give it life. One becomes an extension of the other, being bound together by an unwritten code." She turned her emerald eyes back in Aisha's direction. "Stop your flow of chi from going into the shield, and I guarantee you that it will become inactive again."

Aisha did just that, and was not surprised that the shield returned to normal. The slightly elevated lion's head became nothing more than a golden drawing on the round metallic shield, though it still screamed luxury with the ruby eyes and various gems surrounding the perimeter. Aisha found it strange that the lion was in pristine condition along with the gems. Whether it belonged to Vladimir or not, she was absolutely sure that its previous owner had used it in battle. "How did you get this?" She asked Blade for the first time.

"That's not important right now!" Tiffany exclaimed, cutting Aisha off cleanly. She didn't need anyone ruining her plans, and was more than happy that she hadn't shared that night with Aisha, particularly because it meant that her connection to Onyx would have been immediately severed at the club. In fact, had Aisha been present, the bombing incident would have been a complete failure, given Aisha's fighting prowess.

Tiffany pointed back to the gigantic, wall-mounted screen. There was a pale, wrinkly hand that appeared centuries old on it. On the middle finger, there was a large ring covered inch by inch with blood red stones that glistened even though it was only a digital image. Aisha felt like taking her own two hands and wringing Tiffany's neck.

"Old boy has a thing for red gemstones huh?" Everyone turned back to look at Onyx, shocked that he'd actually spoken up. He still looked tense though.

"Who wouldn't?" Tiffany added, breaking the unbearable silence afterward. "Especially if its wearer was able to crush morale and destroy the spirit of anyone who came against them." She recited from the page word for word, highlighting it afterward. "I don't know where in hell you guys plan on finding a legendary ring, hook, and sword, but even so, the data Blade collected doesn't have a thing on their owner, Vladimir, so we've got no leads on his location."

Aisha stormed from the room, causing a stack of papers to tornado behind her. Blade merely raised an eyebrow. "You're on cleaning duty again Tiff." He boomed, more threatening than nice. Tiffany's face soured, but she continued to look over the data with him. In truth, she knew exactly which facts were truth and which ones were only theoretical guesswork. She knew exactly how to word her explanations, and she knew exactly what to tell Blade. This entire setup had been planned for months now. The biggest variable in the plan was Aisha, who constantly remained unpredictable to her. At times Tiffany wanted to ask herself if Aisha and Blade were really allies, but today's argument confirmed that. Aisha had saved Blade from the clutches of Jonathan and SPECS. Perhaps she should have called in her _anonymous tip_ about the break-in faster. In any case, she would have to handle Aisha sooner or later. She needed leverage, because clearly the sword wielding vampire exceeded her in physical ability.

"A sword capable of counteracting any weapon raised against it? You can't expect me to believe this load of bullshit." Blade laughed. Tiffany's face remained serious.

"A few days ago you would have never believed that an ancient artifact made purely for defense could kill you, or am I wrong?"

Blade shrugged her bitter response off. "Well, I'm taking a break for a while. We need to regroup and get better tech, especially since this vampire, Vladimir, has blood that's making vampires out there harder to kill. Something tells me that it wasn't an accident that Jason's bodyguards had it in their veins, while he had one of these legendary objects. Maybe we should research him? I also find it strange that while his bodyguards lived through a hellish silver beat down, one gunshot put Jason out of his misery. If his bodyguards were infused with Vladimir's blood, then why wasn't he?" Though Tiffany protested, he shut down the computer, and forced her to clean up the scattered papers. "And you." Blade spoke darkly to Onyx, as he reached the doorway, giant shield at his side. He stabbed Onyx's chest with the tip of his finger, and received no response except for an icy stare. "Don't ever ignore a call from me again, or you'll find that not only will your apprenticeship under me be permanently discontinued, but you'll never know what it is to be a real man." Blade didn't give Onyx a chance to reply, for he was already gone.

Onyx sighed, jerking away from Tiffany when her tender touch hit his shoulder. Inside, he could barely control his anger, and part of him wanted to bitch slap Tiffany across the room. It was her fault that his phone had broken, her fault that he couldn't answer the SOS via computer and definitely her fault that he'd been entranced by those beautiful eyes of hers. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think. He needed air, possibly a drink and someone kind to talk to. Though he didn't want to admit it, he was really angry at the fact that Aisha had left him, though she couldn't possibly know that he'd need her company at a time like this.

Onyx's mind flashed back to the many sparring sessions he had with Blade at their various headquarters around the city. She was always there to watch him. Whether he was improving or getting his ass beat, she always cheered him on. Maybe that's why he couldn't stand to be near Tiffany at that moment. Guilt began tearing up his insides. Perhaps he shouldn't have slept with Tiffany at all. Was their whole pseudo-relationship a mistake? Could Aisha have rubbed off on him more than he'd acknowledged before?

Tiffany visibly cringed when Onyx jerked away, loping away from the computer room depressed and to the base's exit. She wasn't a dummy, Aisha had to be on his mind. Her fists shook with anger, but she kept it in check. It was still pretty early in the day, but she needed a drink or two herself. Though she didn't need to, Tiffany told Blade where she was headed, and then went to the closest bar she could find on the opposite side of town. She cracked the biggest grin, received drinks on the house and was drunk in fifteen minutes. It was a very good thing that she'd made it during happy hour.

Blade locked the door behind him, already exhaling all of his frustrations into the air. The negativity formed a certain kind of darkness around him, which he was sure only his eyes could see. Onyx's insubordination was the least of his worries at the moment. The human world once again faced a huge threat larger than life, the burden of which lay on his shoulders once again. Would he die facing the enemy this time? What if he did? What would happen to the human race then? Questions clawed around in his mind, each struggling to become his main priority. Blade's brain throbbed to the point where he thought it was going to explode. Clenching his teeth tightly together, he felt his fangs grow slightly longer. The thoughts intensified, forcing him to hold the sides of his head to prevent himself from collapsing. The voices were returning, starting as garbled whispers and turning into viciously screamed words of anger.

Blade bit down on the mouthpiece, ignoring the pain that came with the sacrifice of his blood. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and the world around him became black. The only thing he was aware of was his breathing and his heartbeat, the defining pieces of him which would be human until the day that he died for good.

"She's dead Blade!" A pointy-eared face cackled at him. The ghostly apparition turned into silver smoke, and was replaced by a horrific image of his mother, glassy eyed and lifeless. The incompetent doctors had treated her for a simple animal bite, not a vampire bite. It was because of their incompetence that she didn't survive. Blade watched the European doctor extract a crying mass of bloody flesh from her split open womb. He remembered every detail of his face clearly, it was his first memory. The baby was him. The scene shifted, further distorting the reality of his mind.

"Those who rely only on themselves leave unmarked corpses on the planet." This new face was Whistler's and it filled his eyes with warm tears. "I've never been much of a father to anyone, much less an antisocial orphaned child charged with protecting all of humanity, but I've got two questions Blade. Is my corpse unmarked? Did I do it all for nothing?"

Blade couldn't respond to the specter. His mouth had dried up, as if someone stuffed cotton deep within his throat. He choked on every word that wanted to come out of his mouth. Blade lurched forward, desperately reaching out to the ghost, as if asking for help, but was disappointed when air found his grip. The tears at the side of his eyes burned away, but that didn't clear away the profound sadness that was laced in the silence that remained.

Blade expected more, but even though he was meditating for another half hour, nothing else happened. Eventually, Blade took the same position in his mind as he had in real life, sitting cross-legged on the floor, empty black space all around his body devoid of sound. In reality, his senses keened to everything around him. The air conditioning made the hair on his arms bristle, the light created a physical sensation where it went across his skin, even the hardness of the floor registered within his mind. Gravity became more than just a concept and became a physical force. Breathing turned into a complex mental process which directed his biological functions. When Blade stood, the procedure was no more delayed than normal, but mentally, Blade went through each step as if reading an instruction manual to basic human abilities. Suddenly, he had a strong urge to be outside.

It felt a little different riding on his Zero XU, even though the electricity powered motorcycle handled beautifully. He was too familiar with his Kawasaki Ninja, and was still upset that he had to scrap it after SPECS hunted him down. Blade was intensely grateful for Whistler's lessons regarding vehicles and electronics. If it had a hard drive, it could be tracked, cross-examined, GPS'ed and traced back to its source. With that, even though SPECS now had possession of a very expensive bike, it did them little good. Blade leaned into a turn, ramping the cycle up to its top speed. He was going to pay Kyle another visit. The world was taking a turn for the worst yet again, and he needed stronger, more efficient technology to keep up. It only took one thought of Jason's lackeys to realize that perhaps his methods were too old school. Even the buzzing tesla-coil stakes in his pocket seemed overused and out of style. Though personal aesthetics had little to do with the art of killing vampires, his arsenal was a little dated. The only weapon he would never truly abandon was the sword at his back.

Blade sped around the block, making sure to catch every feature of the cars around him. His ears unconsciously started to pick up and sift through the hundreds of conversations all going on at once. Blade narrowed his eyes. Kyle's location had to be kept secret at all costs, for if it was discovered, it would be a huge pain in the ass. He couldn't be followed. It was surprisingly easy to recall the details and after gazing into the driver's eyes of five different vehicles, the fact that he could remember each of their faces and outfits started to annoy him. When he parked, Blade was hyper aware of the sound the engine made just before it offered up its last sounds and died as he removed the key from the ignition. The bell on the door of the shop rang so clearly in his ears that he hated the sound. Blade ignored the neon sign next to it, which explicitly read 'Closed'.

Kyle blinked his eyes multiple times as Blade entered, stiffening and entering his strictly business mode. He added an additional layer of caution, because he could see that something was different about Blade. Even his movements, which normally were lucid and powerfully directed, were now graceful and structured. As a matter of fact, Blade's approach suggested intense amounts of pure malice, though he didn't have a weapon drawn at all.

Blade almost laughed when he reached the counter. Kyle's muscles had stiffened so much, that he stood like a board, so taut that he might snap in half at any given second. His eyes momentarily observed the first bead of sweat that slid down the Ninjutsu master's cheek. Though Blade was merely watching, the scent of that single bead of perspiration filled his nose, the saltiness becoming thick on his tongue. Caution, anxiety, and fear there were little more emotions conveyed than that.

"Listen Kyle, I don't know if you've heard, but a certain drug on the street is causing my prey to live a little too long, if you catch my drift. Silver nitrate and hollow points just aren't cutting it anymore. I need my bullets to take them to ash, not first blood." When Blade took his glasses off, Kyle's heart skipped a beat, though he was trying to mask his abruptly increasing fear.

"I've got nothing new for you. The custom SMG I recently procured for you has been the latest and greatest from my end. Have you shot it yet?" Kyle gave Blade a smug look, already knowing the answer to his question. His flames were doused when he noticed the calm rage building on Blade's face. Kyle kept his cool however, even though the day-walker had moved into his personal space, each breath dangerous. The amount of repugnance in every word Blade spoke was proportionate to the amount of fear Kyle displayed. His eyes started shifting uncomfortably, darting back and forth between a wooden sword on the wall, and the hulking mass of vampire-human directly in front of him. His hands emanated a dim glow, and Kyle's eyes flashed orange intermittently. None of this was lost on Blade.

"Try raiding a SPECS weapons cache." Kyle suggested, fanning his hands in front of himself. He was defensive, yet considerably on alert as well. Blade drummed his fingers on the table.

"You have somewhere in mind don't you." Blade's voice was a persuasive command, his patience balancing on a razor's edge.

"There's an older, poorly guarded compound on the North-East side of the Nexus, directly underneath the abandoned power plant. You remember? Get in the utility tunnels nearby and it should be easy pickings, though I can't guarantee anything." Kyle finished, breathing a sigh of relief when Blade nodded his head. Blade turned his back and walked toward the exit. Before placing his hand on the door, he froze, shaking his head from side to side. The next second he was gone.

Kyle struggled to breathe. His throat was burning as hotly as his hand was. Both were somehow trembling violently. He could have blasted Blade from behind with an amazingly fast fireball, but he knew that Blade would have anticipated the attack. Somehow he'd either smelled the heat, the ashes, or his intentions. The last one truly terrified him. His orange eyes flickered for a second with unimaginable hatred, and then returned to their dull green color. Kyle could barely stand on his own. His armpits continued to sweat, the smell pungent in the air. It was true that Blade never walked the path that would lead his sword to its peak condition, but the confusing thing was that Blade professed to be human, while harboring something much much darker within. Kyle was almost sure that few others knew about this phenomenon. Actually, his body's first reaction toward the vampire was pure instinct: destroy it. There was a very high chance that the beast Blade harbored within himself was far worse than any vampire on the planet. When Kyle could calm down his thudding heartbeat and his anxiety stopped causing his palms to shake, he clutched the counter for dear life. Was humanity truly being protected by this genetic anomaly?

"Officer Dan, are you alright?" Syfy asked, leaning closer than advisable over the side railing of the hospital bed. Officer Dan opened his boyishly innocent sea-blue eyes. His head was propped up on the largest pillow Jonathan had ever seen. The two of them were surrounded by get well soon balloons, flowers and cards of every size, shape and color.

"Spiral fracture, I'm out for ten weeks or more," Dan replied, gesturing toward his heavily bound left arm, which hang in a sling. "Fate has a cruel sense of humor, I would have had to been born left-handed, now wouldn't I?" Dan managed a weak laugh. Syfy wasn't sure what to say. Dan used his available hand to sift through his sandy brown hair. He told another joke, but Syfy couldn't bring himself to laugh. Try as he might to redirect his anger toward Blade, who was truly at fault for causing the injury, Syfy could blame no one but himself. In the end, though he'd gotten Blade's blood, which was truly a remarkable achievement, it had cost him his best understudy. Even though Dan was 42, six years older than Syfy, he was the protégé that Jonathan could leave the entirety of SPECS to, should he meet an unfortunate end somewhere along the line of duty.

Officer Dan's eyes warmed, upon seeing the concern on Syfy's face and he smiled. It was a different kind of smile though, the kind of smile that old people smile when they've lived their entire life through, and knew what true happiness really was. "Don't blame yourself General, there was nothing you could have done given the circumstances."

"Call me Jonathan, from now on." Syfy briefly touched Dan's undamaged forearm. The older man's words were so simple, yet there was no way that he could comprehend them. Everything had been his fault. Because of his singular motive, Blade had impaired the lives of countless officers, destroying the hopes and dreams of families, leaving them to grieve without a second thought. When he was first promoted, Syfy had thought that human officers were their greatest strength in pursuing the benevolent vampire Blade, who had a weakness for human opponents. However, less than two years in, the new position revealed otherwise. Sometimes it was better to tell a family that their law enforcement member had died, than to watch the look on a three year old daughter's face as she watched her father breathe through a tube in his neck, completely unresponsive to the words of anyone around him. Syfy had now been the leader of the Nexus's branch of SPECS for going on fifteen years, so he knew it to be true. His experience spoke for him across multiple occasions.

"I'll see you again tomorrow." Officer Dan voiced. At this, Syfy was able to laugh. Dan was dismissing him, presumably for being so depressed about his condition. Syfy nodded at the nurse respectfully, then got Dr. N on the phone.

"Have the prototype ready to test in a few hours. 7:00 P.M. this evening should be perfect for the first trial run." His phone beeped when he hung up, and he opened a text message filled with the details of a hate crime in a problematic district of the city. Wondering why they assigned this crime to him, he wrapped his cloak tighter around himself, determined to induce groundbreaking change in his organization.

The mansion was poorly guarded. Simply put, there were two guards by the gate and two by the front door. As an added bonus, the window Aisha snuck into was already open for her. The mansion's interior screamed luxurious everywhere her eyes landed, perfectly matching up to the sports cars, elaborately carved fountains and swimming pool outside. Archaic suits of armor guarded the hallways lined with plush red carpet, holding gigantic to-scale weapons. Old-fashioned tapestries hang from the ceiling depicting war, chandeliers with pretty tear drop shaped crystals illuminated everything with millions of candles every thirty feet, and the grand walls gleamed with intricate designs made of white marble inlaid with gold. Though Aisha went room to room, she didn't spot any more guards, and never saw a single camera. After coming up short on the first floor, she took a long flight of stairs up to the west wing of the building, glancing briefly at a colossal portrait of Bast, the Egyptian cat goddess of pleasure.

Lucia Noblesse sipped her Leonetti Merlot as if nothing was happening. She knew that Aisha would find her, and she wasn't really hiding. Lucia had spent most of the day in the exact same room, taking a break from her usually hectic life, gazing outside one of her gigantic windows at the sky and waiting for the moon to show up. Its outline was visible now, though it was not shining brightly. Without setting her glass down, or turning her head, she listened to the slick sound of two katanas being drawn as Aisha appeared in the doorway. "To what do I owe the honor?" She asked, leaning back against a cream colored pillow and crossing her spotless shapely legs.

Aisha hissed, and it wasn't just because she was trying to be menacing. Lucia embodied most of the things that she was not. She was a very tall vampire, had the build of a pale supermodel, was heir to a rich family, and a successful businesswoman all on her own. In her free time she made staggering investments, sipped expensive wines, club hopped, and traveled across the world. Lucia always came across as impeccable, classy, open-minded, and prudent. Aisha hated those things. Even though Lucia's public persona, and private self matched completely, Aisha could never imagine living a life tied down by the thousands of chains society had placed on her. The weight of public expectations was enough stress to drive anyone insane, and yet Lucia did it effortlessly, and had been living the same lifestyle over fifty years her senior. In her head, Aisha sounded like a jealous brat, but it hadn't stopped her from drawing her blades.

Lucia's obsidian black hair was parted professionally over her left eye. Her bangs swept across the right side of her face, concealing most of the flawless skin beneath. The rest of her hair was divided, two long locks cascaded down her breasts and stopped just below her waist, while the rest of her hair pooled together near the lowest vertebrae of her spine. Unlike most vampires, Lucia's eyes were always scarlet. The rumor was that permanent scarlet eyes were a trait directly passed down through vampire royalty, and in the Noblesse family at least, it was the deciding factor in which person inherited the family fortune next. In every case, natural red eyes won out, leaving half-breeds disheartened, yet ultimately helpless. That was the way of the wealthy.

Lucia cleared her throat, impatiently crossing her legs in the other direction while taking a sip from her tall wineglass. Light reflected off the crescent moon earrings that she wore in pairs together on each ear. They must have cost a fortune a piece. Finally, the vampire placed her glass down on a finely polished wooden table and gave Aisha her full attention. "To what do I owe the honor?" She repeated, without even a hint of fear in her voice, though Aisha was a sword's length away. Instead, Lucia put her hands in her lap and offered another simple smile.

Aisha growled, but was ashamed of herself. Even when politely smiling, Lucia's fangs were longer, sharper and more pronounced than hers. She crossed the katanas on either side of Lucia's slender neck, an inch away on either side from beheading her. "Vladimir's ring, what do you know about it?" Lucia uncrossed her legs, letting the expensive shoulder less black dress relax around her pallid figure before responding.

"If you wanted to kill me, you wouldn't be asking questions. Sit down and have some Merlot, won't you?" Lucia gestured to the dark green bottle on the table. The top was already popped, and there were spare glasses on a bar in the corner of the room. She'd only taken her eyes off Lucia for a second, but in the next Lucia's neck was outside of both of her blades, her body comfortably relaxing further down the couch. Aisha reluctantly obeyed her request feeling idiotic and slightly bashful. When she looked back to the regal woman, she met an icy stare that could cut metal. "What are you doing in my home Aisha Yamakita? And why shouldn't I have you erased off the face of the Earth right now?"

Aisha kept her hands near her katanas just in case. Lucia's voice had power in it, and it made her unusually anxious. She didn't notice it, but her hands were trembling. "How do you know me?" Aisha replied angrily. She was seriously considering smacking Lucia's expensive glass onto the floor. There weren't many people who could make the distinction between her two personalities, in fact, it was nearly impossible for anyone to know her whole birth name, because she literally never used it, and was never called by it.

Lucia shrugged her shoulders and laughed softly. "I'm rich. The vampire world, the human world, and everything in between is accessible by the affluent. There is nothing in this world that is outside the reach of money. Now before I disclose anything about this ring you've come here searching for, answer my second question. Quickly."

Aisha didn't know what it was, but upon that last word, she swore she saw Lucia pull a dagger from between the folds of her cream-colored sofa and spear her to the loveseat. When she blinked, Lucia hadn't moved, it was a hallucination. The vision made Aisha uncomfortable, but she had to pretend like she was unfazed. "We're friends aren't we? Perhaps we could get to know each other more?" Aisha leaned back and took a relaxed stance. To show peace, she even took a generous sip of Merlot after retrieving a glass of her own, which tasted fabulous, even without the added appeal of blood.

"Get to know me by killing a few of my guards and breaking into my summer home? You must be one hell of a catch. Perhaps I should personally escort you to the safe so we can deepen this amicable relationship of ours?" Lucia's laughter was musical. Her beautiful face was filled with intrigue.

While Aisha still had motives for being there, she could see, perhaps in a past life, them as very, very good friends. She was refilling her glass and downing it quickly, feeling more welcome by the second as a healthy warmth spread through her abdomen, tickling her organs and making her laugh. Pretty soon, her intentions were lost in the conversations they had, which became more and more colorful as they continued to drink.

"800 dollars a bottle for this fucking shit, can you believe it?" Lucia stumbled to the bar to retrieve another bottle of Merlot, breaking the previous one into dangerous shards of glass that littered the floor. Giggling, she danced around them, and plopped back down next to Aisha, where she'd been sitting for the past two hours. Though Lucia was taller, Aisha pulled her head close to her chest and snuggled with her.

"Are you ever lonely?" Aisha asked, genuinely curious. Her gaze found the moon, which illuminated the entire room while refracting through the humongous windows.

Lucia sighed, finding comfort in stroking one of Aisha's thighs. "It must be surprising that you don't see a man in this place waiting on me hand and foot, or even a life partner willing to accept the fact that I'm a multimillionaire with a big heart." Though it pained her to do so, she shook off Aisha's comforting hand running down the diamond of skin in the back of her dress, and stood. As if completely sober, she directed Aisha's attention to a glass case across the room, which was filled with plaques, trophies, medals and other various treasures. As more and more memories unlocked themselves in her mind, Lucia stroked a corner of the glass case, crying. Aisha could only observe in bewildered silence.

"Would you believe it if I told you that my father is the CEO of both the Nike and New Balance shoe corporations? Ha! Of course you would be given to believe that. Well, compared to him, my extensive department chains of beauty products and personal aesthetics are nothing. Aside from my monetary assets, you're staring at every important achievement I've ever made in my life. My father has an entire room of cases just like this." She pushed off the case and stumbled back to the loveseat where Aisha caught her as she was about to fall. Lucia looked into her eyes, her scarlet irises shimmering with an unknown emotion. She placed one of her hands tenderly on Aisha's face. "You're probably better than any man I could hope to capture with my heart alone." Lucia confessed.

Aisha blushed, but was uncertain as to why she did. She'd spent over four hours in the home of a rich woman, and was unsure why. She was holding a charming, dazzling, radiant, woman so carefully, it was as if she were a mother. Yet Aisha still didn't know why. Her blades, while still at her sides, were not resonating with her chi as they usually would. The entire situation was beyond confusing. The most disturbing thing of all was that Aisha couldn't determine if this entire ordeal was out of character for her, or simply a piece of her that she suppressed, because it didn't fit with her lifestyle. Aside from a few noteworthy examples, this was the first time she'd befriended a woman in America. The feelings Aisha was experiencing still felt fresh and unexplored.

Seconds later, as if a switch had triggered, Lucia popped up out of her lap, excitedly waving her hands around. Aisha tried to calm her down, but didn't succeed. "I've just thought about a grand way for us both to have a little fun." She explained, a mischievous look emphasizing her point. Aisha shook herself and tried her best to pay attention. Soon the liquor would be fiercely fighting its way through her body, muddling her brain. "I'll enter you in the female gladiator's championship, sponsor you and then we can part ways when you bring home the prize!" Lucia anticipated every question that Aisha asked afterward. "You fight to kill 25 vampires in live-or-die matches, one at a time. It's a repulsive blood sport really, but the financial gain is immense. Win, and Vladimir's ring is yours. Also, I get millions of dollars for betting on you, and give you a slice of pie bigger than you've seen in your entire life, I assure you."

Aisha thought things through. She could only trust Lucia because she was sure that the liquor had already taken its toll on her. There were no guards sweeping in to kill her, no more weird hallucinations, and Aisha knew that Lucia understood her position perfectly. If she wanted to, Aisha could take Lucia's head right then and there, but then she'd have no way into this championship, and thus no way to get the ring without spilling her information elsewhere, which was especially dangerous, considering Onyx's new attachment. She wasn't one for blood sports, but she kicked ass undeniably. 25 undisciplined gladiator warriors? Male or female, that was nothing. She was also very intrigued by the monetary offer. Up till then, her income was based solely on the targets she turned in to Vizuela, and there hadn't been many since she'd joined Blade. While she could easily stay with Pinky or Ratso as The Black Tiger, she didn't want to soil her reputation in the mercenary world by living with someone of a lower class. In the back of her mind she cursed herself. In a way, she was just like Lucia. Not to mention the fact that often times, the friends she made in that world were all married. She supposed it made sense. Most mercenaries had life-partners these days.

Lucia held out her hand for Aisha to shake. "Sixty-forty, no strings attached, no hidden clauses. I'm sure you'll win for me, won't you?" When Aisha accepted the offer and returned the shake, Lucia's voice overflowed with mirth. "I'll keep in contact. Oh, and do your best, I'll be cheering from the stands!"

Aisha was about to talk back, when a hand closed over her mouth, and she drifted into a deep slumber, waking up hours later, alone, and on a rooftop. There was a note in her hand from Lucia. Aisha unfolded the formal stationary and read the two words printed in beautiful calligraphy: Good Luck.

Blade parked the white SUV at the site of the old power plant. This was the least populated part of the Nexus. There was hardly a car on the road as he came to his destination, and far fewer people on the streets. It had taken four dirt roads to arrive there and the only houses still standing remained in ruins, ready to be blown over by a strong gust of wind.

It hadn't taken Blade long to find a utility tunnel. Four years ago, Squeaks had directed him to the very same place to take down the head of a powerful coven. He'd had Onyx with him at the time, and while it was true that they hadn't done too badly together, Onyx had almost been killed multiple times on the mission. Guilty thoughts were just about to invade his head when he stopped in his tracks. Two hushed whispers echoed from around the corner of the underground passageway. Blade listened to the conversation, but since the sound wasn't getting further away or closer to him, he assumed the people were standing. He attached a reflective edge to the side of his boot, soundlessly easing it around the corner. The black material complimented the dingy cement floor. The two guards didn't notice anything.

"Frank, why the fuck do you think we gotta stand here for eight hours a day, staring at the goddamn walls when we're in the middle of nowhere?"

"Lighten up Joe, for fifteen dollars an hour plus benefits I'd even do that shitty job the people at Liberty Tax have got. Why don't you dance a little jig every now and again? I promise it'll amuse us both."

The second both of them laughed, Blade was on the move. The hallway was over 70 meters long, but he covered it in an instant. At the end of the gap, Blade completed an exceptionally long wall run and smacked Frank so hard that his neck snapped, and his body slammed into the opposite wall, slumping into a heap. Before Joe could do anything, Blade disarmed him, and then punched him in the chest. He felt his fist sink into the skin, and could feel the ribs give away one by one. The force of the blow lifted Joe off his feet and slammed him down almost two yards away.

Blade swiped one of their keycards, entering the facility without a problem. It truly was a mess though, for what was once an office area was now a tornado of thrown books, chairs, desktop computers and paperwork, byproducts of an earthquake no doubt. If he could bet, Blade would say that the only reason the two outside would enter the facility is for the conveniently intact bathrooms which joined the office area.

After some searching, Blade found a door labeled research and technology. Again, the keycard gave him sufficient access. Blade had hit the jackpot. Inside, there were only two things as far as the eye could see. Computers all joined to a central server, and guns...lots of them. Blade immediately took interest in two weapons that floated in an orange liquid plasma. The glass display was centered in the front of the room. They were both small handguns with external designs that seemed inspired by insects. One of the guns was primarily red, the other was green.

Blade drew closer and used the attached keypad and monitor to read about the mysterious weapons. Developed only three years ago, the green one was empowered with a heavy concentration of memory boosting enzymes that increased long term memory exponentially. Upon closer examination, there was a strange, pulsating vial incorporated into the back of the gun, where one would normally cock back the hammer. The red one ended up having the exact opposite effect, when shot, it injected a biological virus into the bloodstream which attacked and killed the most important memory cells in the body, inducing amnesia, or even a coma.

Blade stopped reading, surprised to find that the glass casings and the plasma surrounding the weapons were now gone, and the weapons simply sat on a pedestal, gleaming with polished chrome that would attract any eye. He reached into a pocket of his coat and sprayed to detect lasers, but there were none. Selecting the green weapon, he picked it up and tested its weight. The grip in his hand was completely natural, and the gun felt as if it weighed nothing. A football would put more strain on his arm than this thing.

Behind him, Blade saw motion, and in one instinct driven moment, he whipped around and fired straight into the glass near the entrance. Though Blade couldn't see any bullet, the glass shattered less than half a second after he pulled the trigger. What happened next, he could never explain.

At first, there was a slight prick right between his eyes, and then his stomach gurgled so painfully that it brought him to his knees. Next, he began to remember everything. There was no limit to the amount of scenes and emotions brought up by the mysterious attack, and he could not hold them back, even though he was clutching his head and dry heaving. He closed his eyes when an extreme heaviness made it too arduous to keep them open, but that just intensified every memory, even ones that he would much rather have suppressed forever.

"No!" Jade screamed at the top of her lungs. The shadows around her log cabin home expanded, and six creatures of the night appeared, one of them snatching the wailing bundle out of her arms before she even saw him. She clawed at his back, and ripped away some of the fabric of his hooded shirt. She would never forget his spiked brown hair and sharp eyes that were colder than an arctic tundra. Though she was crying and screaming louder than her child, she would not be persuaded to stop attacking.

"Get rid of her will you?" The child-snatcher commanded, as Jade got closer and closer to him.

One of his cronies slapped her aside, but she grabbed his arm and sent a thick chair leg through his sternum with power she shouldn't have had. There was a roaring of flames, and then he turned into ashes. Jade ran toward her broken window, where her baby had been stolen away, scooping up a knife as she did so. This was her home, she knew it better than anyone else. If she could just balance on the bookshelf for a second, she'd be able to reach the windowsill... The remaining four vampires instantly blocked her path. She swung at one with the knife, but another countered, slamming her against the wall, pinning her hands. Dark magic prevented her legs from moving, or perhaps she was frozen in fear, she couldn't tell the difference.

She shrieked loud enough to make eardrums bleed, but they just laughed at her struggle. One of them had the bright idea of holding the knife up to her throat. He was begging her to scream again. Adrenaline was still blazing through her system, but she could see no hope. Jade resigned herself to fate with one last thought of her child. At that, her front door blasted off its hinges, and a new vampire walked into the room.

"Fuck this shit, I signed up to get the son, not to be fucking obliterated!" The vampire panicked, dropped the knife, and fled for the window.

Blade remembered the action as if he'd just performed it. With a flick of his wrist, he'd launched a silver grappling hook through the vampire's ankle. Blade yanked him back to the cabin's floor, watching his ashes sprinkle an animal rug. He moved to attack the final three, but they were smarter in their escape plans, using the death of the first vampire to get away.

"You're one of them aren't you? Why did you kill them?" Jade's face was contorted with hatred, but even so, she was very beautiful. Her face was naturally cinnamon hued, with honey colored eyes that could look into the depths of a heart. Her brown hair went down to her chest, and even with her previous struggling, had maintained its volume and moisture.

"I was too late." Blade spoke, surveying the overturned furniture, the broken pictures on the ground and the clear dents in the wooden floor. The child was gone, and he had failed to save him.

"Turn me, I will get him back."

Blade was about to laugh, even though that would be the worst thing to do in this situation, but Jade was fast approaching, and her eyes held such determination that he couldn't believe they were real. "You'd never find..." She cut him off in the middle of his dubious statement.

"I have their scents, all four of them." She tapped her perfect nose and sniffled lightly. "There's no way I can catch them like this, as a human." She waved her hands around her body. Blood covered the white tank top she wore, haphazardly splashed across the bare section of her chest as well. Her jeans were torn unnaturally in several places, as if they'd been forcibly sliced open. Her arms were bruised purple in a few spots and her knee was bleeding brightly.

"I'm sorry, but it's neither my job, nor my intention to change you. Believe it or not, I'm just a human who kills them off. You wouldn't want me to kill you now would you?" Blade's voice was flat and straightforward, but he swore it was as if she were deaf, because she would not listen to anything he said.

"I, Jade Mariah Tsulah, give myself entirely to you if it will save my son." She said it as a declaration, while simultaneously removing her shirt. Blade found lust clawing at him in many different ways, adrenaline, blood, sex appeal, passion. Each lascivious idea more dangerous than the next. Instead of coming onto him however, the woman bowed before him, placing her head on the floor, her brown hair creating a curtain between him and her face. "I have no regrets. If it will let me save my boy, I will do anything you command afterward. I am a Cherokee woman of my word, and once my task is completed, will forever bind to you as the Earth is bound to the sky."

Blade forced her to stand, looking into her eyes. "He is as good as dead already. Would you still accept the curse if it meant only revenge?" He'd barely finished uttering the question when she was nodding her head. It was at that that he turned away to leave. Jade grabbed his hand but he yanked it away. She called after him, but he wouldn't acknowledge her. As time passed, he was reaching his wits end, for she had ran from her home, barefoot and all, to chase him and try to stop him.

The sunset on the horizon was a beautiful image, but the light didn't quite reach the wooden cabin in the distance. When Blade stopped running, Jade stopped a safe distance behind him, panting, yet still having that fire in her eyes that would not extinguish. "Five years. If you are alive and truly seek vengeance, meet me at this exact spot in five years. Then I will honor your request." Blade dashed away.

Jade stood for a moment in stunned silence, before screaming loud enough for the world to hear at his back. "I will! I swear it by the Earth Mother herself!"

Blade twitched on the floor as the memory assault continued. Why her? He screamed on the inside. What was so special about her? Through the swarm of memories about his family and his childhood, another memory burned brighter than the rest in his mind. This one was five years later, in the greatest war fought on American soil, The Vampire-Human War of 2045. The roots, once planted, even spread as far east as Japan, with humongous skirmishes between the species' across the globe. This would be the most casualty heavy war in history, with the world population decreasing by a little shy of three billion people.

Six units were closing in. While Blade could direct each of the squadrons, as he'd allied with the American government temporarily, he couldn't save any civilians that were perceived as vampires from instant death, whether they were in the process of changing or not. He rushed ahead of the group, and entered the log cabin again, slamming the door behind him. In the distance, bombs were exploding. Another nearby coven of vampires had been uncovered. Blade received battle statistics on the fly via radio. In this area, it wasn't looking good for the American troops.

The home appeared empty and uninhabited. Most of its furnishings were gone, and dust was everywhere. So she didn't make it? His thoughts momentarily echoed. He was going to plant a device in the floor that would mark it as an American stronghold, when she emerged from around the corner, dropping a glass to the floor and breaking it, her mouth slightly open, breath quickening by the second.

"You remembered." Jade spoke, still unable to move. While she had on a thin fur jacket, it was still scary accurate how she wore almost the exact same outfit from five years ago, down to the feather earrings and the beaded bracelets that went around her ankles.

"You're going to die! Why did you come here?" Blade looked anxiously over his shoulder. They only had a few moments left. Without thinking, he crossed the room to her, and dropped his fangs. There was only a moment's hesitation on his part. The pull of the woman in his arms, the erotic scent of her pulsing blood, and the spike of her adrenaline controlled his actions, far surpassing the years of willpower he'd come to accumulate. Maybe he loved her. Perhaps he just wanted her to get the justice she deserved due to his failure. Possibly it could have even been his guilt, but he went through with the bite.

When Blade pulled up, he repeated his statement. "You're going to die now." His voice was lighter, but she merely nodded her head, tears crowding near the corners of her soft eyes. Blade knew she understood the truth in his statement. He pulled a heavy cloth from a space in his military fatigues and wiped the evidence of the bite clean. Jade felt the wounds seal, but her body was going into shock. She was going to be killed by someone whose name she didn't even know.

"I will be back someday." Jade whispered. They were her last words.

With that, Blade impaled her all the way through with his sword, and left her lifeless body on the ground. Soldiers burst into the house, and he barked out orders, marking her as a civilian casualty, who would be buried nearby by a special group on standby. He helped setup the stronghold, and together with the troops following his orders, they were able to drive away the remnants of the vampire legion in the area.

Blade awoke, standing, staggering, but with a firm grip on the memory enhancing gun. Nothing around him had changed, except for the shattered glass from the entrance to the lab. The computers continued to buzz with the generator's electricity. Blade checked one for the time, and found that only ten minutes had passed since he'd shot the weapon. His brain had stopped throbbing, and there was no vomit on the floor. He ended up sending his coordinates to Onyx, who responded promptly this time. Turning his focus back to the advanced weaponry around him, he began to gather them together into large boxes, prepared to load up the vehicle. With Onyx's help, the entire place was cleaned out in merely two hours, leaving nothing but two dead guards and the humming of electricity in their wake. Blade thought that blowing the place up would be too much, so he left quietly, though richly adding to his vampire-slaying arsenal.

"Damn it guys, do you have nothing better to do tonight?" Squeaks ordered another drink and silently dismissed two females from his table. It was almost midnight, and the sports bar was full of fans sloshing alcohol and screaming everywhere at the multitude of plasma screens. Silicon parts bounced every which way when the two scarcely dressed females left, in severe danger of dropping onto the floor in puddles of mushy flesh.

"They only want you for your money, you know that right?" Blade laughed.

"And you bitches only want me for my information," Squeaks piped up, downing another beer. He was fast approaching his limit. Onyx and Blade sat opposite him, lowering their voices to a whisper.

"Vladimir's ring, do you know anything about it?"

Squeaks snapped out of his alcohol haze. "Are you fucking kidding me? You mean the shield was?" Blade silenced him with a look. Squeaks adjusted the collar of his button up shirt, which would have been classy if it weren't for the Legend of Zelda emblem etched into the breast pocket. "Listen, I think it's better if I show you guys. Meet me here next week on Friday. Christ, I can't believe that was more than a rumor." Squeaks rubbed his bald spot, leaving some cash and a business card on the table. Onyx snatched up the card, and then they all left the bar, Squeaks leaving in a beautiful silver BMW.

If Squeaks truly knew the ring's location, they would have half of the legendary artifacts that belonged to Vladimir. Blade began thinking. While they still had no clue on his whereabouts, he figured that the more objects they accrued, the more people who knew the truth about them would close in on them. As surely as they were collecting the legendary artifacts, they were all painting huge targets on their heads, which was fine with him, because he knew that no one paid any money for the little fish in the sea.

"Don't say shit to Tiffany," Blade threatened, on the drive back to the base.

"My lips are sealed." Onyx replied, giving his mentor some dap.


	8. Chapter 7: The Reward of Champions

**Chapter Seven**

"Squeal like a piglet bloodsucker," Trigger murmured, taking a clean shot with his tongue hanging out. The vampire let out a howl while his ankle shattered like glass. In the next two seconds, Angela leaped on his back, placing her blades at the vampire's throat. When she couldn't get any information, her twin knives Heartbreaker and Funeral slid through flesh and bone as if playing a twisted game of connect the dots. A vampire's head rolled, then turned into ashes.

"Take point three blocks over!" Panther called up to him. Trigger saluted, deconstructing his bi-pod and lugging his sniper rifle with him. He climbed down the long diagonal staircase that ran down the side of the apartment. Once he hit the bottom, he jumped to the asphalt below, beginning a brisk jog. Mud squelched with each step, but it couldn't slow him down. Should he run into a vampire himself, Trigger was armed with three pistols, two bowie knives, and if they were far enough away, his sniper rifle. As the oldest member of Vici, he was also the most prudent, hidden knives lodged in the bottom of his boots just in case. He'd seen too many cases in the past where a hostage eliminated their own chances of survival simply by being unprepared. Going on a vampire hunt was no different. After a little under fifteen minutes, he climbed an elaborate fire escape, then using the windowsills, scaled the rest of the building. A thick rain guarded his presence.

As normal, Trigger set up his bi-pod and adjusted the scope with a waterproof lens. Testing a red laser, he found everything to be in order. It would be about three more minutes.

Panther knocked the flying trashcan away with one of his gauntlets. Red Devillion had to be stupid if he thought that a trashcan would be enough to stop him. At his back, Kokei pole vaulted over the flying debris using the bottom of his spear. The motion was both fluid and acrobatic. Panther had a pretty good notion that if they weren't sprinting after Red, that Kokei would have knocked the projectile back at its thrower with perfect accuracy. Angela was getting into position, which meant that they were close to wrapping this one up.

Trigger fired four shots, but each was slightly off. He made the correct recalculations every time, but the wind seemed to pick up and it disagreed vehemently with his line of sight. When Red Devillion dove into a restaurant's green and white decorated outdoor patio, colored umbrellas and tables flew into the air, blocking his vision. He prepared to regroup. There was no way he'd get a clean shot with civilians screaming and running every which direction.

Onyx's large bowl of chicken noodle soup spilled painfully in his lap, causing him to yelp. A vampire brushed by, definitely on the run. Infuriated, Onyx pulled out his kusarigama and launched it through the air, just as three more people sprinted past him, all holding weapons. As predicted, his chain was fast enough to catch the vampire's arm. Onyx gave a hearty pull, which dislocated the vampire's right arm, ripping it from the joint. His chain encircled the vampire's leg, tripping him at the same time. Onyx stood up, still breathing heavily due to a spiking blood pressure and an immeasurable anger. Ignoring the awed looks of the other three hunters, he dragged the vampire across the tile floor. The chain bound so tightly to limbs that it left red imprints around them.

"Please, no, nothing! I didn't do anything! Leave me alone!" Red Devillion begged, sliding closer and closer to the picture perfect example of death...an angry black man denied his meal.

"This yours?" Onyx asked, directing the question to the only three people with the guts to stay in the ransacked restaurant. He squished his boot against the vampire's face, forcing it further into the ground, muffling Red Devillion's pointless begging.

"Not anymore," Panther chuckled, blasting the two panther's claws on his golden gauntlets into Red Devillion's skull. Onyx pulled back his foot as the rest of the vampire turned into ashes. He wasn't feeling to get his boots dirty.

"Have we met before?" Onyx asked, crossing his hands over his chest, appraising the group. They were shortly joined by a much older man toting a large sniper rifle. Onyx would come to know him as Trigger, Vici's prime marksman.

"I don't think we have. Do you do this kind of work all the time? Your skills in the heat of the moment were pretty impressive. I think even Aiden would be impressed that you can use a kusari like that. Where did you learn?" Panther asked, buying Onyx a drink, ignoring the more than friendly look his eyes were giving Angela. It was slightly later in the night, and they were finishing their discussion back at Vizuela, Vici having collected Red Devillion's reward.

Onyx laughed deeply after downing the alcohol. His blood was boiling, and he was very, very excited. He didn't know why, but it felt like forever ago when he'd gone on an action packed adventure alone. Now that he wasn't in Blade's shadow, he was starting to feel very sure of himself. Perhaps he was a little arrogant, but rightfully so. He could speak freely around this vampire-hunting team, and at the very least it was interesting getting to know them after their recent hunt. "One at a time, one at a time." Onyx replied, though only Panther had asked him any questions. Trigger was eying him warily, and Angela was throwing him mixed signals. The one named Kokei stared ahead, though a bright green headband was tied around his eyes. He must've been blind.

Four vampire targets and dozens of coven guards later, Panther was feeling pretty cocky himself. When they turned in a new card to Joe and collected yet another set of shiny silver checks for the group, they could even note the surprise on his face.

"In a rush to rank up?" Joe asked. Vizuela was mostly empty, aside from two or three vampires. He reached from behind the counter and pinned up a brand new bounty list of the top 50 teams in the Nexus. Vici had ascended five places to number 35. For the most part, the list remained unchanged except for the cash values associated with each rank.

"We're on fire Joe, and the department is taking their day off!" Panther chuckled, and Onyx gave him a pronounced fist bump. Trigger was leaned against the bar, extremely relaxed. His eyes wandered to the female mercenaries grouped together in hushed whispers while looking their way. He gave them a wave. Aiden remained strictly business.

"Well I see you guys aren't just some run of the mill college dropouts, so try this."

This time, instead of giving them any choices, Joe handed them a business card. There was an enraged face packed into a neat little square on the left side of the card. On the right was simply a name. Kraven Stryker, wanted dead or alive.

"What's this guy's game anyway?" Trigger said, hardly glancing at the face.

"Escaped convict, targets government officials, impossible to track, you know, big boy stuff." Joe laughed, running his fingers along his mustache. His huge arms flexed while he laughed at their expressions. "You may not believe this, but while this guy did escape from a level five SPECS penitentiary, no one has identified his race. Human or vampire, all we know is that he's very good at what he does, very clean, and always escapes capture. So while hunting your little game, keep an eye out. I don't want you guys to fuck up and disappoint me alright? Make me believe it wasn't a mistake to hand your team that card."

Aiden flipped the card over in his hand. On the back, there was only one location written where Kraven was last spotted. He narrowed his eyes at Angela, who was having a harmless conversation with Onyx. The man was only slightly tipsy, but Aiden didn't like it. "If we could have _all _of Vici serious about this manner, I would greatly appreciate it." Aiden sarcastically sniped. Angela got the hint and quieted immediately.

Onyx stood to his feet, bowing his head slightly to Joe. "Listen guys, I've gotta head back anyway, I know I'm stepping on some toes right now. Anyway, it was real kickass hunting with you guys though." He turned to leave, and from his peripheral vision, he noticed Angela's beautiful face contort into an unpleasant grimace. Nevertheless, it was Panther who caught his arm.

"You were nice out there man, stop by this joint sometime, perhaps we can play some ball or somethin'." Onyx nodded, and then clapped his hands together with Panther, trading shoulder blows.

"Sure thing, sure thing." Onyx said, leaving with a smile on his face. The only thing that pissed him off about the night was that he hadn't gotten to finish his dinner, and that he'd have to take the late night bus to get back in the vicinity of Blade's base. Walking was a bitch.

"Yo Aiden you catchin' vapors or something man? What's your beef with this guy? Did you see how he manipulated that weapon? Even when Pro Bono disarmed him, he had a backup hunting knife in his back pocket and helped us with the takedown. Seriously, that guy is an asset, why you gotta hate on him man? If anything, I would have thought that you could appreciate someone else like that?"

All eyes turned to Kokei, who sighed. Perhaps he was just tired. At first, he was going to argue, but found it to be a childish route. "I just wanted us to be serious about this. When Joe steps us up in targets and says it's big, it's big. We made 200,000 off of Jason Normandy, this guy is closer to his caliber than anyone we've ever taken down before. He's sure to be dangerous, and is an escaped convict. Despite that, if we focus, I'm sure we'll be able to succeed where everyone else has failed." Aiden admitted, sliding the card down the table to Panther, who inspected it again.

"Aight man, but you gonna have to calm that mess down next time we see him. I'm not saying we could've done it without him, but we did make thousands tonight with his help. Did you see him even ask for a penny of that?" Panther questioned.

"I expect we'd need to find out which official he'd be after next instead of blindly tracking him." Angela asserted, standing to her feet. Several inebriated male heads turned her way, but she ignored them. Instead, she beckoned for the group to leave. Joe waved them off.

She felt a hand grope her behind, and whirled around, only to find Trigger's sagacious face staring directly at her.

"Please don't tell me you're trying to get sealed by some black Onyx huh?" He burst out into raucous laughter and she punched his shoulder hard. She definitely didn't need another male in her life at the moment. Not when she was surrounded by sarcastic jokers like Trigger 24/7. Angela did get lost in thought however, at the possibility of someplace new, something new, someone new...

Aisha raged into another heavy roundhouse kick which thoomed against the 70-pound Everlast punching bag. The bag shot backward in recoil, and when it swung back in her direction, she hit it so hard that the bag swung back dangerously close to hitting a light on the ceiling. Her stance remained unbroken while she unleashed several more crushing blows upon it. She had hip-hop music blaring from an iStereo on a casual table nearby, and rhythmically attacked her immobile opponent. Sweat easily bled through the simple gray tank top that she wore, accentuating her chest and slightly defined abs. Her lower half was only clothed by small black boy shorts of the same name brand as her MMA punching bag. Tying up her hair, she weaved around the bag, only giving herself a few seconds of break time. She kept up her assault for another solid fifteen minutes, then caught the bag with her arms. Aisha discarded the annoying boxing gloves that she wore, and blitzed one final kick into the bag. It would have blasted off its support beam, were it not for Blade, who stopped the bag midair with his mass.

"Training for something?" Blade asked, raising an eyebrow. Aisha's eyes wandered down his broad, naked chest. Unlike her, he wasn't sweating at all, yet there he was shirtless, flawless, and looking like something Donatello sculpted back in the 1400's to depict perfection.

"I haven't been training in awhile, I've gotten sloppy." Aisha huffed. It was true, she'd only been working out for two hours and was already ready to collapse in a heap on the floor. A few years ago she could've keep up her tenacity and vigor for longer than double that time.

"You're welcome to this room anytime, let me know if you want to spar." Blade spoke, watching her pick up her pink iPod, and a clean towel while leaving. He did find it slightly suspicious that she hadn't answered him at all, but the Everlast punching bag called out to him. He ended up taking Aisha's spot and giving the bag a pounding of his own. Blade would have asked Onyx to fight with him, but he hadn't returned yet. Neither had Tiffany. He shook his head sadly. Aisha had to be lying about her motivation for training. She was blowing off some steam from the fact that Tiffany and Onyx were out late together. He couldn't blame her.

Aisha looped her long hair up into a bun and quickly got away from him. It was happening more and more lately, her heart started beating faster around Blade, her face got hot, and to top it all off, at that moment she wanted to faint from exhaustion. She didn't stop her brisk walk until she safely shut her bathroom door behind her. Once inside, she sank down to the floor, leaning against the door, allowing her bare feet to absorb the coolness of the floor tiles. She wasn't in love with him. She just couldn't be.

Her breath came in raspy bursts. When she could stand to her feet, although still a little shaky, she looked in the mirror grumbling. She was a mess. Aisha tried massaging some of the tension away from her neck, wiping her eyes, and splashing some water on her face. In the end, she prepared for an epic shower. Aisha turned the water as hot as it would go, and soon the spray had clouded the entire room with steam. She liked things this way. After removing her final piece of clothing and folding it neatly atop the pile on the toilet, she took one final glance in the mirror and almost jumped out of her skin. Lucia Noblesse was staring back at her, an upturned smirk on her thin pink lips.

"Don't be afraid Aisha, it's not like I haven't seen it all before." Lucia joked, bringing her hand up to her lips. Aisha stopped pressing herself into the wall like a terrified cat, and instead focused on slowing her breathing. She didn't bother covering herself up in front of Lucia. It wouldn't have mattered anyway.

"I'm assuming this has nothing to do with seeing me naked." Aisha pointedly stated. Lucia nodded, her face hardening into very tight lines. There was a distinctly vampire quality to the way her entire body sharpened when she became serious. It was almost as if Lucia's reflection was more real than the mirror itself.

"There's a requirement if you are to accompany me to next Friday's match to envision the accursed hellhole you're going to be entering."

Aisha studied Lucia. She couldn't see anything in the background of the reflection, and for the first time since the apparition appeared in her bathroom, she realized that Lucia must have also been naked herself. Her eyes and voice were so commanding that it was almost impossible not to hinge on her every word and maintain eye contact. She was so eloquent with words that part of Aisha even wanted to lean closer to the mirror, though she knew it wouldn't decrease Lucia's proximity. Aisha quickly ended her scrutiny however, for all she saw were perfect collarbones, perfect breasts and a perfect belly button. It was crazy how Lucia's nobility and finesse could affect her dozens of miles away. Jealousy reared its ugly head again, though not enough to gain a foothold on her emotions. "What do you want?" Aisha asked rather bluntly.

"A golden armband," Lucia answered rapidly, as if finishing Aisha's sentence for her. "It belongs to an Amazonian Warrior Queen by the name of Amara. You can't miss it, for ironically enough, it is embellished with a silky insignia of a black tiger. It is currently in Sir Archibald Walter's possession, an up-and-coming artifact collector known for his critical eye. Procure it for me." Lucia's lips curved into a devilish smile, and her scarlet eyes sparkled with mischief.

For a few moments, the two naked women did nothing but stare into each other's eyes. Aisha was deep in thought. The assignment couldn't have been that hard, for in fact, she already knew Archibald, though she had no official connection with him. "What do you want with a golden armband? Where should I deliver it?" Aisha catechized, having toned out the deafening sounds of the showerhead. It was becoming increasingly hot in the room, and a new layer of sweat beaded up on her curves.

"Oh you can keep it." Lucia quipped. "I merely believe that your hands are much more befitting of the item than his. Women's intuition you know?" Lucia laughed light-heartedly. She then took note of the unease on Aisha's face. The Japanese woman's brows were narrowed, and she was still in deep thought. "I don't care if you have to exenterate his arm in the process. Domineer him into parting with the band, Aisha. This is a one-time opportunity. Fail, and all of your chances at getting Vladimir's ring die with you." Lucia's threat bounced around her bathroom, slamming into Aisha's skull again and again.

Lucia's final words sent a shiver down her spine, even though the room was blistering with heat. Her mirror was back to normal. Aisha ended up climbing into the shower and letting the water beat over her head while she rested it against the front wall. She tried to relax and think about happier things, yet she failed miserably. The first thought that came to her head involved Onyx and his new sex partner, and the next involved her home in Japan going up in flames. Before she knew it, she started to cry. Aisha's salty tears mixed in seamlessly with the tap water from the showerhead. She didn't make a dramatic show of it, but she allowed her heart to break right there, supporting herself with a hand against the wall, less she fall in an accidental display of dangerous emotion.

In her sadness, a face appeared that stopped her tears. It was a potentially understanding face, one that might be free of judgment. In moments, the water was off, and she was back in her room, leaping over her Queen-sized bed to grab her swords. She quickly threw on an outfit, and left the base. It was near sunrise, but she hadn't forgotten her special robe, and based on her current velocity, she would have some time to spare regardless of when she arrived at the headquarters. She absolutely had to see him though. Every bone in her body propelled her forward, consequences be damned. If she could just see him...

"Anybody got a lock on Kraven Stryker? We need to reclaim him at once and strengthen the containment cell especially for him." Syfy asked, pacing down a long line of people sitting in front of individual monitors like drones. The logistics team was always working around the clock, even on holidays. Most of them would joke about how the seats were contoured specifically around each unique posterior, and that anyone who sat down in the wrong seat would instantly feel the uncomfortable ridges of another man's butt print. Three people answered him at once. The target had gone dark.

On a sigh, Syfy left the room, heading to the elevator that would take him back to his executive office. It was true that he could've just paged logistics, but he liked to see his teams in action firsthand. He wanted each and every member to understand that he knew their contributions, and appreciated all of their efforts. Syfy wasn't one for sitting behind a desk all day performing mundane administrative tasks, even if his job forced him to do so. He swiped a thick identification card against the elevator's scanner, and stepped inside, pressing the button for the top floor. No sooner than the doors shut and the elevator began a rather quick ascent, the power tripped, surrounding him in total darkness. The elevator had instantly stopped dead in its tracks.

Aisha broke the circuits to the elevators, the two executive offices and the break rooms. While she was sure that it wouldn't cause a major panic, there would be inquiries. She knew Jonathan to be the type of man who would want to check the problems out for himself rather than wait for someone else to fix them. With a giddiness she couldn't explain, she slipped into SPECS headquarters, and dodged every person inside with ease. His scent was becoming stronger and stronger. It kissed her nose with a deep, unbridled passion that increased her longing for him tenfold.

There was a random laser on the wall that landed on her forehead, but before anything could happen to her, she drew her silver katana, and reflected the beam back at the mysterious device. There was no visible result. Aisha made it to the elevator duct in no time at all. Many of SPECS's workers were still indulging in whatever work they had been assigned an hour ago. Aisha was very confident that only a few people knew about the power outages spread sparsely throughout the enormous establishment. A strong work ethic was definitely a core part of the organization; so she doubted anyone would even be in the break rooms. No one would know she was there. Well, almost no one.

She'd entered on the ninth floor, effortlessly spotting the elevator shaft and merely blending in with the shadows of the duct. He was beneath her, her nose verified that. Aisha didn't even have to worry about falling, because she could easily traverse through the space as a weightless blur. In the shadows she was faster than the speed of sound. It had taken her years to master the skill, but she had absolutely no worries about making it to him.

When she landed on top of Jonathan's elevator, she could hear him conversing to other people, probably through a microscopic microphone somewhere on his person, trying to keep them calm and maintain order. Aisha could definitely admire his commitment and bravery. There was no doubt that he knew their security had been breached, but there weren't any casualties or disturbances yet to trace the intruder. Her stomach lurched violently, and she took an uneasy step, clutching the thick rope in the center of the shaft for support. She was hungry as hell.

"I'll handle it." Syfy assured Dr. Rashidli, who found a computer outside of the executive office to use. Her office was out of power as well, so she had to take a trip down the hall to connect to him. Shortly after, the communication link between them cut so violently that it gave him an electric shock, which put him on the floor. "You're here." Syfy spoke aloud, drawing a weapon from his pocket. The short circuit was nothing new. Only a vampire could perform an action so controlled and precise, without doing much external damage. Syfy had only met one vampire who could do it. The design of his weapon was familiar to her, a short blade with a wicked curve that could transform into more lethal weaponry. Aisha recollected it immediately, as if she could forget a design so technologically ingenious.

"Who are you intruder?" He called out to the darkness, standing perfectly in the center of the seven by seven foot elevator. Syfy's eyes carved through every inch of the box, but they were much too slow for her. He'd never catch up. Aisha was constantly moving outside of his vision.

"I am your shadow." Aisha smiled, though she knew he couldn't see her. She wanted to laugh, but didn't want to freak him out anymore. While his composure was definitely relaxed, she loved the way his muscles tensed as she drew nearer to him. She didn't know if it was the ever growing hunger in her belly, or just her playful spirit that made her want to commence a dangerous game with him, but she started one anyway.

The dagger became a foot-long knife, and sliced through the air, connecting with nothing. Aisha placed her hand on his back, then withdrew quick enough to be at his back when he spun around again to strike. The hunger inside her grew. She wanted to taste him, God, she wanted to bite him. But what good was the blood of a vengeful man?

Panting, Syfy gave up, dropping the knife in resignation. After flailing for what seemed like hours longer, he couldn't do much else. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, and a very sweet smell stroked his nose. The entity was playing games with him. Rather than give it complete satisfaction, he opted for getting information. In the future he'd take further precaution when it came to sources of power, because the elevators were one of the only places in the building that didn't have their own backup generators. He wouldn't be moving anytime soon if the circuits to the elevator's electricity were completely cut. While, he could escape through the secret set of doors in the back wall of the elevator, there was no way he could be out fast enough to avoid the entity. Whoever she was, she moved faster than his eyes could track, and she wasn't about to release him. Syfy was trapped under-equipped, and he didn't like it.

Aisha gave his neck a quick kiss, and he swatted at her reflexively. She watched him curiously from the ceiling; he was turning around, mouth poised to say something. He'd completely ignored her advance. Syfy must have known she was playing with him. Instead, he redoubled his efforts to locate her. Aisha skimmed the surface of his thoughts and found that he had something to say. Was he trying to look in her direction before speaking to her? "I am standing in front of the entrance," Aisha lied, watching him move to face the front of the elevator. The knife was on the ground, harmless, but a threat nonetheless. His hands were in his pockets, but Aisha couldn't get around the idea of him potentially drawing something else from their depths. There was no way she'd allow herself to be killed by this man.

"Have I ever seen you before?" Syfy called out, making his tone as convincing as possible. He needed to play the confused, weak human that was scared out of his wits. The problem was, it was far too easy for him to slip back into professional mode. The first opportunity he got, this paranormal oddity would be dead at his feet, but he needed illumination first. Vampires weren't the only supernatural creatures SPECS was in charge of handling, just the most dangerous in existence.

Aisha's eyes narrowed. He was lying. Not physically lying, but his body language was a dead giveaway of his false persona. Aisha really hated liars. She unsheathed both of her swords, keeping the scabbards bound tightly to her legs and circled the elevator so fast that a small vortex was created inside of it. Her swords showered him with purple sparks, and his mood changed again. He was definitely scared now. While the elevator lit intermittently due to her actions, Aisha was accelerating too hastily for the unnatural sparks to adumbrate her figure. Besides, she'd melted into the darkness around her; Jonathan would have to be much more worried about the huge sparks setting his clothes on fire than catching a glimpse of her. Aisha could smell the palatable fear, as well as the delicious adrenaline. Eying the abandoned weapon again, she knocked it into a corner, almost shearing off his hand as she did so. Syfy was idiotic for thinking about getting his weapon back and even more asinine for attempting to retrieve it. He retracted his bronze hand with a frown, because he'd fallen in fright. So much for fighting back.

"Make one move toward the tanto and I'll chop you into pieces," Aisha fulminated, distorting her demonic voice and throwing it to another side of the elevator. Sweat now covered his body, and he trembled slightly though there was still a zephyr of wind cycloning around him. There was no way he could even move. As Syfy laid on the ground, he tried his watch again to no avail. He prayed that Dr. Rashidli had the mind to send someone and fast, once she'd realized their communication link had been severed by an external force.

"Should I handle her first?" Aisha stopped her run, licking evilly up the blunt end of her black katana. "You seem very worried about her safety, even moreso than your own." She laughed when Jonathan's outcry came at once. He was in no position to threaten her. Instead of continuing his dispute however, he caught her off guard with his next question. Jonathan seemed to be very good at that. Just when Aisha thought she'd figured him out, he'd do something completely deviant.

"Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance back at Pro-Kredz?" Syfy inquired. His emotions were starting to get the best of him and he had a severe headache. Dr. Rashidli was no fool, but it would take her a few more minutes to piece together his location and he needed to stall, badly. Even so, the elevator was stuck between two floors, and clearly the entity had the power to decimate anyone who approached the elevator from the outside. He was cemented between a rock and a hard place, in an elevator with no way out.

Aisha curiously cocked her head to the side. It seemed fortuitous that he hadn't drawn a connection between the innocent schoolgirl and the hooded demon that almost choked him to death in broad daylight less than a week ago. She contemplated how she would answer him, watching each and every movement he made. Syfy had settled into an Indian style position in the center of the elevator, but his eyes were always scanning the ceiling. They never passed over her though.

"Why didn't you kill me?" Aisha slipped up, regretting it immediately after. She must have been high off his scent, because she was feeling very irrational right now. Her stomach lowered her fangs, and she kept licking her lips while she watched him. Lust pulsated from her body in the form of the sweet scent that she'd showered with, saturating the entire room with a titillating aroma. If she tried hard enough, she knew she could give him an erection with her fragrance alone... Damn she was starting to feel like a stalker. Wasn't that the point of this entire meeting though? Aisha had only wanted to see him.

He nodded, receiving confirmation in his mind. He was being tormented by a sweet-smelling vampire, the same one that came onto the scene after his fight at Pro-Kredz, and the very one that he'd spotted upon his return to the shoe store. Why was she following him? What did she want? Was there a purpose behind this visit?

"You must like flirting with danger little vampire. You know what my organization is about. You know what we're famous for. We will hunt you down and we will destroy you and everything like you. There's no hope for you, so what business could you possibly have with me?" Syfy was slowly regaining his confidence, though he remained seated on the floor. Just because he was feeling slightly bolstered didn't mean he was stupid. He needed to get some UV light into the room somehow, or lure the vampire to the front of the elevator. Syfy needed to know that she was there for sure before he attempted his escape.

"Oh I shan't be here much longer Jonathan, so you don't have to worry about escaping." Aisha replied, giving his thoughts a swift once-over. She couldn't pry any further into his mind than the surface and his strongest thoughts, but it was enough. "You can't kill me because we're connected in some fucked up way, and likewise I cannot eradicate you because of the same fucked up connection. Want to try me?"

"Gladly," Syfy stated, rising to his feet. Aisha allowed him to stand. His challenge both enraged and amused her. In either case, it only served to exacerbate the situation. Aisha wouldn't lay a finger on his pretty face, but she didn't grant the rest of his body that immunity.

She began the vortex again and knocked Jonathan's tanto next to his feet. It hit his leg from the side, so he knew it was there. "As proof that I accept your foolhardy challenge, take the blade by your foot, and hold it out at an arm's length in front of you."

Syfy did as he was told. When he put his arm forward, there was a clang, as the blade met with another sharp metallic edge. Though it was scary not being able to see the clashing of the weapons directly in front of him, it was just the opportunity he needed. He ran his hand over the handle of the tanto and it exploded into a dazzling white full tang katana. However, the now 36" blade hadn't cut through anything when it extended.

"Tsk tsk, I am disappointed in you Jonathan. I would never date a cheater." Aisha reprimanded.

Syfy smirked, pressing another switch, which caused the white katana to shoot a brilliant stream of ultraviolet light toward the elevator's entrance. Any vampire within three meters would be incinerated by its intensity. He had her, or so he thought.

Syfy screamed as heat cauterized his vision into a white abyss that blocked out everything else. He was never able to see the elevator doors, or the woman in front of them. He dropped the katana and palmed his hands over his eyes, but he already knew she was gone. In under a minute, the elevator lit up, beginning to move again. Once it opened on the top floor, seven guards rushed in to tend to his needs. There would be no evidence of the woman's invasion though, he just knew it.

"Biting the bullet again huh?" Tiffany asked, sashaying her way into his room. Just looking at her pissed him off, from her small blonde bob cut down to her simple strap heels.

"I shouldn't have to remind you that yo ass doesn't have a free pass to stay here." Blade remarked, eying her angrily. He was preparing to meditate, and his inner peace was interrupted the moment he smelled her advancing on the room.

"So should I start paying rent now day-walker?" Tiffany laughed, going to sit on his bed. She was pressing too many of his buttons, and today wasn't the day for that. "I'll tell you what. I'll pay double what it takes to keep this place in line for a month, and keep your subordinate out of the way when you feel like going on suicide trips." She smirked evilly, as if she knew some long, lost secret about him.

"Or you can get out right now before I kill you. Nobody needs to tell you that you're on a short leash. First sign of anything crazy jumpin' off and I can tell you personally that I'll be the one to cut that leash and let you run straight into traffic."

"Oh cool it Blade, that's not why I came to talk anyway. You know as well as I that SPECS has a viable sample of your blood, more than just a sample actually. How are you going to get that back? Or did you just forget that in the wrong hands you could populate the planet with more vampires who are immune to sunlight?" She cringed when Blade regarded her with pure scorn etched across his face.

"I'll do me, and you can stay the fuck out of my way." He raged, leaving Tiffany sitting alone and dumbfounded.

The next three days passed uneventfully. The team seemed more divided than normal, Blade going off for long periods of time just to be by himself, Aisha convening with Lucia on more and more occasions and Onyx getting closer to Tiffany. As Friday dawned ever closer, each individual began putting their own priorities higher and higher on the list, until everyone's actions were dictated by personal motives. Nightfall drew nearer as it inevitably would, prompting them to divide yet again.

Aisha's form arced across the sky, and blended into another shadow on a building across the street. The wind whipped in her ears, her body filled with the familiar pleasant sensation that only the night air could bring. She was limiting herself to fifty miles per hour, keeping up with a single black stretch limo that careened down Main Street, carrying a portly art collector with a trader's mustache. The limousine was heading for one of the more affluent neighborhoods, and soon Aisha was slipping between the shadows of trees, fountains, and huge houses that probably sold for at least half a million each. She scanned the surface of both Archibald and his drivers' minds. The driver was very annoyed at having to listen to the constant complaining happening behind him, and Archibald's thoughts were all selfish and filled with avarice. Aisha laughed, momentarily sliding into the vehicle's shadow. She would time this just right, and it would be so fun.

Sir Archibald Walter wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. "I mean come on Jeeves! I was supposed to arrive at the expo, say a few words, and then leave with this damn thing on my arm! Instead, I'm sipping champagne, shaking hands with the governor, asking about wedding plans, and speaking a second time for an audience. You'd think I could just excuse myself, but no, the bloody gits insisted on me staying! How much farther is it now? You know the windows are tinted so I can't see for myself. Dammit man, what say you Jeeves?"

On the other side of the tinted Plexiglas divider, Jeeves shook his head. He'd be so much happier lying in bed with his beautiful wife right now. He missed her dearly. Instead, he had to work for an asshole for nine hours every day, driving around the city so much that he'd memorized its layout. Jeeves wished he could do better for her. He wished that there was a better job opportunity, but there wasn't. Jeeves wasn't pissed about the 10.50 that he made an hour, he was just pissed that he had to receive it from Archibald. He pressed a button on the dash so that he could reply, having muttered all of his frustrations wisely beforehand. "We've got about twenty minutes to go. They're quite the bumbling idiots huh?" This sparked a new wave of complaints.

"Oi, who the hell are you?" Archibald yelled. A female head poked through the sunroof, spilling long, black hair in front of him. Her face was hidden, but even with the knife in her mouth, her threat was not.

"Give me the band, or I'll end you where you sit." The crazy woman destroyed the speaking console, bringing fresh terror to his pudgy cheeks. If he couldn't let Jeeves know what was going on, and obviously he hadn't pulled over, what the hell would he do now?

"Do you know what I had to do to get my hands on...Argh!" Archibald's rant turned into a cry of anguish. The short, yet jagged knife tore so sharply through his shoulder that it provided the illusion that she'd cut straight through his entire arm. Archibald Walter's arm went numb. When the opportunity presented itself, he snatched a fistful of black hair. There was a wild look in his eyes now. Had Archibald been thinking clearly, he would have banged on the Plexiglas in hopes of Jeeves hearing him, but he didn't. He couldn't let her get away with that armband, for it had cost him millions to attain. Greed had its claws in him deep. "Are you daft you manky bitch? Like hell I'm letting you escape with that golden band!" He yanked as hard as he could, successfully keeping her in the back seat. If he had his other arm, he'd try and close the sunroof, but currently that luxury was unaffordable.

Aisha growled, having foreseen this result. The ending wouldn't be pretty. Jerking her head to the right, she shanked the knife through the center of his right hand, making him reel back in terror. Aisha lunged for the white handle, and bit down on it, extracting her weapon and ramming it against his throat, which split open as easily as carving through butter. While daggers weren't her taste, they sure worked wonders in enclosed spaces. As Archie died, she took her fill of his blood, being sure to keep the golden armband clean. When his throat stopped geysering, and his eyes became glossy, she closed them, licking her lips at the same time. She felt sorry for the driver, yet couldn't let her emotions get in the way. Survivors were potential witnesses. She easily slipped out of the roof, and into a nearby shadow, plunging the extremely sharp four inch blade into the back two tires, ripping it out after each. The limo swerved, slammed into two oncoming cars, and rolled onto its back. She wasn't sure if there was a fire or not, for she was heading back to where she knew she could find Lucia. Aisha felt stronger than ever with the band on her right bicep. To her, it felt like the band coalesced with both her body and her personality.

"Good show, as they say in Britain." Lucia approved, giving Aisha a light hug. "I'll see you in two nights from now. It would be wise of you to show up outside early." She finished, walking away, flanked by two of the most muscular men Aisha had ever seen. Stomach full and requirement satisfied, she headed back to the base to relax, still covered head to toe in another man's blood.

"Are you doing alright in there Oberon?" Syfy called through the viewing glass. Beneath him, in an empty room with six large pillars was a man in a seven foot tall nanosuit, with flashy red and white metallic parts. As if the idea had been taken from a graphic novel, the suit was complete with a rocket thrust propulsion system, protective helmet with computer integrated visor, and thick gauntlets that ended in claw-like fingers on each arm. Oberon's sync rate with the machine was 85 percent, the best anyone in SPECS had tested so far. Dr. N had done a fantastic job with the suit, and he was sure to receive very high accolades if it tested as competently on the battlefield. Once they were able to generate another fully operational suit, Syfy would be notifying his superior Yuki Naga immediately.

"Doing fine Syfy. Psychologically stable, synchronous rate within parameters, and all generators are running at optimal capacities, ready for phase two." Oberon nodded his head.

"Do it then." Syfy instructed Dr. Rashidli. She then took control of a large metal arm, which slowly, but surely injected the suit with a portion of Blade's blood. There was no visible change.

Everyone waited for a tense five minutes, before Syfy gave the signal to resume the nanosuit's operation. "Chainsaw!" Syfy yelled through the intercom. Oberon stood the nanosuit up to full height, and his hand transformed into a gruesome chainsaw, which buzzed loudly as the bladed chain spun around faster than the eye could track.

Oberon suddenly sped forward in a sprint, and slashed one of the thick pillars horizontally, until there was nothing but rubble remaining. Seamlessly, when Syfy called out bow and arrow, his other arm accommodated, changing into a large technological version of the archaic weapon, shooting white arrows the size of streetlights into another of the pillars. This one crumbled into dust as well.

"He's doing grand." Dr. Rashidli noted, watching Oberon adapt to using a gigantic sickle, an assault rifle, and a morning star, each of which sprouted from one of his arms. "Power output is limited to two hours, and still takes an immense amount of charged current to maintain, but the nano-mollecular structure is absolutely amazing. Are you sure this potential weapon is defensive in nature?" She turned to Dr. N, who gave a small chuckle.

The older, balding man rumpled his pointy beard, and leaned a little further onto his cane. "The nanomachines are naturally dependent on external stimuli. Even now, you can say that they are merely reacting to Syfy's voice, and changing to accommodate it. Soon they will adjust to Oberon's thought patterns, and work solely to protect the host. There are only two drawbacks, the foremost one being the bonding agent between host and nanite. Though he accepted the duty personally, I need not remind you all that Oberon's lifespan is shortened by 12 definitive years, and if we go by the state average, that will put him at a maximum age of 63, which is twenty more years. His body will start to break down, and the cells will die. There's nothing we can do about that at this juncture. Secondly, while we can effectively control the power output of the machine, its operational use is severely limited at two hours per charge, which takes a full week to complete. Not only that, but the suit naturally draws electricity from surrounding sources to maintain stability, yet still does not increase its uptime. If anything, to make it truly effective, we will have to increase that uptime. Two hours simply isn't enough time for an entire week." Dr. N took one more glance at the figures lining the three touch-screen monitors in front of them and then recommended that Syfy disengage the suit.

"Oberon, retract." Syfy commanded. Ostensibly, the metallic exterior of the suit disintegrated away, leaving a tall Ethiopian man with beautiful skin. Syfy knew that the nanomachines were inside his body, swimming through his bloodstream, integrating with his nervous system. While Oberon panted a little, he showed no signs of injury, physically and psychologically. Syfy blew out a breath of relief. The tests were going well, and now that the nanites knew what Blade's blood was, they could react in response to it, most of his worries were put at ease. Dr. N's nanomachines learned. Their creation was possibly a candidate for the most enticingly dangerous phenomenon ever.

Oberon bowed to Syfy and then left the room. He'd been prepared, and yet still couldn't believe the amazing power the suit contained. Even though currently Syfy was the only one who could trigger the nanomachines to express their overt traits, just knowing that the power to control the nanites within him was fascinating. Oberon made himself a cup of coffee, and sat in silence, smiling when a hand clapped him on the back.

"Take the weekend off man." Syfy spoke, pouring himself a cup of black liquid. Oberon laughed.

"Only if I get paid overtime boss," he replied with a chortle. The men shook hands and then Syfy left the room. Oberon's next test would be coming up soon. The time to put the suit into its real experimental phase was imminent.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry," Panther snapped, breaking into a full sprint. The clock was ticking, and he didn't have time to wonder what would happen if it ran out. He took a sharp corner and ascended another flight of stairs. E-Bon bounded past him, though completely silent, per Panther's request.

"In position," Trigger spoke over the radio, giving the okay signal and coordinates to verify. Aiden was playing the fool, taking the elevator straight to the observation deck. A little beneath him, Angela took her time climbing the stairs, pacing herself to line up with the time remaining. There was only fourteen minutes left until the pissed off vampire would make his move, and they needed the plan to go off without a hitch.

"You seein' what I'm seein' Blade?" Onyx asked, motioning to the flat screen plasma. "Apparently, the news is blowing up about the governor being kidnapped directly from his office, and taken to the top of the Empire State Building to be ransomed for three million dollars. In broad daylight, might I add," Onyx finished.

Blade turned his attention away from the radar he had pulled up on his laptop screen, and sat next to Onyx on the couch. He wondered why the criminal didn't ask for more than just three million dollars. "He must be serious though, I mean look at where he's standing," Blade addressed. "Over the observation deck, with a megaphone to ward off the choppers in the area. If I had to guess, I'd say that a false move or denial of ransom would result in a governor being thrown over 300 meters to his death. Wait a minute, are those people up there?" Both Blade and Onyx leaned forward in their seats, and the closest camera zoomed in to reveal a man standing directly across from the kidnapper. Beneath that, there was also another man climbing stairs with a black panther. Blade recognized them instantly.

"I assume you're here to pay the ransom?" Kraven Stryker boomed, pursing his lips. In a flash, he'd drawn a gun and aimed it at the center of Kokei's skull. "You have five seconds to pull out a briefcase, or you'll be falling to your death as well. And get that fucking news chopper out of the sky before I forgo my offer!" He cocked back the hammer, but received no response from Kokei. As far as he knew, the man was a statue. The news chopper descended rapidly, although there were other ways to catch the ordeal on film. In his other hand, Kraven held the governor's neck tight in a sleeper hold. The official was still unconscious. "Do you think this is a fucking joke? Where's my money you blind sonofabitch?" The outburst ended with a scream. A metal knife shot through Kraven's hand, making him drop the gun and the governor.

Right on cue, E-Bon flew through the air and captured the unconscious body in his jaws, safely running with him to a police team stationed inside the observation deck. Angela used the knife's magnetic properties to pull Kraven dangerously close to the edge of the building, and then Kokei kicked him off.

Panther caught the criminal midair in a tackle that put them both on the ground. With a crippling stab from Angela, they subdued Kraven, who shouted a stream of obscenities while bleeding profusely. The last thing they heard before being bombarded by news crew members was a clear threat to escape again. Panther grinned from ear to ear.

"Think the Nexus knows who we are now?"

"So you're all leaving me alone? What the hell guys?" Tiffany whined. She even turned to Aisha and pleaded with her sparkly green eyes. The vampire opposite her was immune to her charms. "Even you Aisha? Say it isn't so!"

Aisha shrugged off Tiffany's grip, and then crossed her arms over her breasts. With her hair pinned up neatly and fashionably, a beautiful silk kimono coated with pictures of dazzling flowers, and a smaller knife stashed at her waist, she looked more like a Japanese doll than anything else. It had been awhile since she'd needed to dress formally for an outing, even though the implication was that she was with going to be with Lucia rather than attending a blood sport.

"I don't know if that was an insult or not, but yes, I have important business tonight with Lucia Noblesse. Sorry to break it to you."

Tiffany grumbled and whined some more. Onyx parted together with Blade, giving her a peck on the cheek before leaving the foyer. "Lucia? I didn't think you swung that way." Tiffany jeered, resuming her old attitude toward Aisha. It was annoying. Tiffany followed Aisha out of the construction site and to the street, berating her as much as possible.

"Consider this," Aisha began, as a white and gold limousine stopped directly in front of her adorned with a stylish, golden LN hood ornament. "You better watch who you make your friends, and who you convert into enemies." The limo sped off, leaving Tiffany standing all alone with a bad taste in her mouth. She did in fact have a plan for them all that night, just to solidify her place within the group, but now that her plan was null and void, she decided to further their destruction instead.

Tiffany pulled out a sleek, black cell phone and dialed the only number in the contacts list. It rang only once, before a serious voice greeted her on the other end. There were no formalities, it was straight to the point.

"Send in Salazar. It's about time we start taking out these humans who are supporting and supplying Blade." Tiffany hissed in a vampire language. The voice merely confirmed her request, bolstering her confidence. "No weapons, no information, no defense and no action," Tiffany cackled, beside herself with joy. When the line cut, she broke the snazzy phone in two, and stomped the pieces on the ground. The SIM card she idly threw in a trashcan two blocks away. If they could party, then so could she.

They met up with Squeaks at a cafe called Blue Bottle. They weren't there long. Squeaks, looking surprisingly sharp in a three-piece formal ensemble, trailed by four vampire bodyguards, led them to an amazingly expensive silver Lincoln MKT. Once Blade and Onyx were seated, the guards dispersed instantly, losing themselves in the hundreds of people that still walked the streets on a warm, Friday night.

"Oh they're still watching," Squeaks chuckled, shifting the car into gear. It gunned to life and then shot down the street, taking exits and side streets which even Blade had never been on before.

"It's gotta be a bitch putting gas in this thing huh?" Blade asked casually. He had intent however, his informant's answer sufficiently quelling his curiosity.

"Nah, it's been pretty easy to fill up. My girl's got seven consecutive wins under her belt. Can you imagine? It only took her three matches to turn me from an average Jake into a major player, plus with the added income of betting on the other matches, ha! I'm somewhat of a God!" Squeaks's excitement was somewhat annoying, but Blade was soaking in the information. Perhaps some other time he'd ask how Squeaks had found out about the secret blood sport, and how he'd survived all of this time through it. Did he always have escorts watching him? It was any man's guess where they were headed, for they were definitely quite a way from the Nexus by now, and still driving along the coastline.

"How is she man? Your girl I mean? She give you benefits for sponsoring her?" Onyx added from the back seat, slouching back into the interior.

"It's not even like that bro." Squeaks answered, putting his slight dislike for Onyx aside. "The relationship is mutually beneficial, but it's just for the money, that's it." The car ducked into a tunnel and everyone's vision went black. The car didn't have its lights on, but Squeaks was still driving recklessly, making quick last minute decisions and dynamic turns. At the end of their ride, they were directly outside of a massive replica of the Roman Coliseum in a huge parking lot. They were surrounded on three sides by water, on a peninsula that Blade had never heard of. Dozens of people were grilling food on the back of their vehicles, clinking beers and laughing. It was almost as if he was at a Redskins game at the FedEx stadium in Maryland.

Onyx got out of the car, and stood for a moment just to take in all of the infrastructure. The replica was the exact same size, had the same architecture, and had additional accommodations for the sport that was held there. Inside, a massive crowd of thousands was already screaming in pure ecstasy, surely there was a match already going on. He thumped his hands together, feeling energy enter his body. The smell of smoked hotdogs wafted over to him, and he considered grabbing a few from someone else before going into the coliseum.

"Nothing funny guys." Squeaks admonished, the same burly vampires from before appearing out of thin air to surround their triad. "Day-walker or not, there are thousands of vampires here who won't hesitate to kill you if anything at all goes down. Security is so tight that since these games started twenty-five years ago there hasn't been a single incident of violence, sabotage, or terrorism. It's a well-known edict that the only crime happening within this peninsula is that of greed." Squeaks chuckled, increasing his short strides so that he could stay ahead of Blade, who was hardly paying him any attention. As far as exits went, he'd have to steal a vehicle and hotwire it, but the way the place was set up, Blade was sure that he wouldn't make it out of the amphitheater in the first place. There was the idea of jumping into the ocean, but this was a vampire establishment. Sharks and other aggressive demons of the sea were a given. While he didn't see any speedboats, he didn't doubt that one could be procured within a matter of minutes. Money truly had a voice of its own here.

"Watch the 'nads you prick." Onyx cursed vehemently, receiving a callous shove forward through three sets of metal detectors. He and Blade were still packing however, but Blade had expertly thrown off the tuning of all three magnetometers at once with a device in his breast pocket that was too small to be felt by security. Squeaks cracked a stupid joke as they curved around a massive ticket line, and headed up to one of five VIP boxes. Once seated almost fifty feet in the air, a pre-arranged attendant brought them free luxury food on a shining silver platter. Squeaks nodded and she left after he placed a thick wad of bills in her outstretched hand.

"Join in whenever, gentleman. We've got mass gambling, and we've got sexy gladiators!" Squeaks screamed, rising to his feet with the crowd. Down below, two women in scanty leather suits were battling tooth and nail in a central arena made of hard clay. There was a huge scoreboard which showed the name of the two combatants, their elements, their weapons and the total amount of wins and money bet on them. The underdog's name was Kylecia, and while she only had three wins, she seemed to be a crowd favorite.

Onyx leaned closer in his seat, bubbling with excitement. The match was real alright. When Kylecia hacked off Sophie's left leg, spewing blood everywhere, the crowd sprang to life and screamed in both anguish and pleasure. He hadn't noticed that he was standing as well until the arena went deadly silent. Kylecia easily disarmed her crippled foe, holding her off the ground by her bright blonde hair. Sophie, the other gladiator, was struggling, but tears were in her eyes. She also had three wins, but rather than a trained female gladiator, Sophie appeared to be nothing more than a baby at the mercy of the crowd.

Kylecia nodded in five directions, first in the direction of the VIP box nearest the arena, and then to the other four. She screamed in Latin, loud enough for everyone to hear, "Vivit aut perit?" Blade noted to himself. The blood sport surely wasn't totally absent of Roman tradition. Based on the votes of five VIP members, Squeaks astonishingly in that number, Sophie would either live or die. Kylecia shook her dreads, and yanked Sophie's head so hard it looked like it would disconnect at any moment. The crowd lined up with and repeated each concurring vote, and when it came to Squeaks's turn to speak over a megaphone, the decision was unanimous, perit.

Blade watched with disinterest as Kylecia stabbed her stainless steel sword through her opponent's neck, bringing up a cheer from over ninety percent of the spectators. Blade knew that as a vampire, Sophie wouldn't die from the attack, it was purely for show. An announcer blared out a congratulations for Kylecia, in a strong, forceful tone. The results projected on the massive electronic scoreboard, also announcing the top ten benefactors of the bet on the match. In addition to Kylecia's name, Squeaks had just made a little short of 300,000 dollars.

"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit! Did she just die?" Aisha was jumping up and down out of her seat in dangerous peril of stepping on and ruining her sprightly kimono. Lucia remained standing until one of the official executioners entered the arena, placing two silver bullets in Sophie's skull that converted her into ashes. Her blood dried on the circular arena much like hundreds of others before her. Lucia turned to face Aisha, who was still ecstatic and in high spirits.

"This is the world that will soon become your own." Lucia expressed, motioning back to the arena. They were in the special box closest to the action, so Aisha could even visualize the silver filigree on the urn the executioner swept Sophie's ashes into. Suddenly, each bloodstain spattered across the clay foundation had a story, the walls of the arena screeched with shrills from the souls of the defeated and the spectators turned into savage beasts clamoring murder and bloodshed. It was only for a moment however, and Aisha refused to be derailed.

"Well, it's time for us to be leaving. I've already notified the proper channels of your upcoming registration in the championship, and my choice to sponsor you. It is time for Minerva to take my place. Remember Aisha, failure here equates to a silver bullet in your skull. Achievement is matched with wealth, recognition and great power." Lucia enlightened her, slowly rising to her feet.

"Ah, Lucia. Only spectating today, not wagering a few mil? What's the matter, daddy got you investing in your savings account?" An older vampire swept into the room alone with a commanding presence, wearing an old-English dress that definitely didn't belong in this century. Her shimmering black hair was swept into dozens of curls atop her head, as if she were wearing a bushy wig, and stylish dress shoes covered her delicate feet. Overall she was quite beautiful, save her ghastly emphatic facial expression, even though she didn't fit in at all with the time period. The vampire also had permanent blazing scarlet eyes, which locked onto Aisha for only a moment, then they closed as she and Lucia exchanged Euro kisses on each cheek. "And who is this you've brought along? Her countenance reminds me dearly of the late Akane Koga. Are you taking in pets now?"

"A pleasure Minerva, this is Aisha Yamakita, my assistant for the night." Lucia introduced bitterly, gesturing for Aisha to show appreciation. Minerva's insults were stacking by the second, but Lucia had to save face at all costs. Aisha however, was frozen. It took her several seconds to respond, and she ended up bowing deeply. When she rose back up, Minerva gave her a peck on both cheeks shaking her head with pity.

"Fabulous, just fabulous." Minerva sniped, pushing past Aisha and denouncing her improper etiquette. "Don't let a passionate nightcap turn into a frivolous scandal!" Minerva called over her shoulder. Lucia was lightly tugging Aisha's hand and leading her away from the box angrily. She didn't gratify Minerva with another word.

Though she could feel Lucia tugging on her arm, and leading her out of the coliseum, Aisha was having an out of body experience. Everything inside of her wanted to jerk away from Lucia and sprint back to Minerva to choke out all of the information she could get from the aristocrat. Akane Koga was her mother's maiden name before she got married and became Akane Yamakita. She tried to think through the shock, but didn't realize that she'd already been escorted back into the limo, and was on the long ride back. Aisha didn't know where Lucia was taking her, and didn't care. At that moment, the championship, Vladimir's ring, and even breathing wasn't important. Tears came to her eyes as she remembered all she could from before she was seven years old. Akane was always very beautiful no matter the occasion, had the same long, straight black hair as her and had a laugh that could brighten an entire auditorium. Her eyes were a deep and entrancing indigo, and she always carried around a katana as lovely and sharp as she was. What was it about her that possessed Minerva to say such a thing? She had to know, for it was eating at her bones. What quality did she possess that would remind someone else of her mother?

"Are you alright honey? How many fingers am I holding up?" Aisha opened her eyes to see Lucia leaning over her, smiling with relief and dismissing an impromptu doctor from the room. Aisha briefly observed that she was back in Lucia's mansion, in a four poster king-sized bed with satin sheets. She didn't take the time to appreciate its beauty or silky feel. Information was as important to her as the blood she was forced to ingest as a vampire.

"What do you know about my mother? Who was Akane Koga to you?" Aisha snatched for Lucia's collar, but missed. Her vision was still a little blurry, but she recognized Lucia's disdainful frown. Her entire face was colored with distaste, but after she blinked, Lucia was grinning from ear to ear.

"I'll let you know when you win your first match."

Aisha couldn't argue, or even speak, because her consciousness slipped away from her, putting her in a deep, deep slumber.

"Dude, I am so fucking wasted man." Onyx slurred, tripping over his own feet almost falling flat out on the sidewalk. Blade jerked his arm with a bit of laughter himself. While he was nowhere near as inebriated as Onyx currently was, he had to admit, he'd enjoyed himself. Not only had they seen five matches to the death, the coliseum also hosted a live hip hop concert, a dance party, and distributed free drinks to everyone in the stands. Blade got to scream his lungs out and feel truly alive again for the first time in years. In addition, there was a certain feral quality to the women that made watching them perform creative, original exotic dances all the more enticing. When they weren't trying to kill each other, they coordinated rather well in complex choreographies that had to take weeks upon weeks of practice to master.

"Get a hold of yourself James, we're almost back. You need to lie down." Blade chided, while Onyx cursed him for the suggestion. Even when they finally separated from Squeaks and made it back to the base, Blade was still feeling amazing. He thought he might try his hand at collecting some cash from Vizuela that night.

Vici left Vizuela, every member feeling extremely proud and slightly drunk. Since their recent involvement in contracts, their team had ascended fifteen spots, from rank 40 to 25. Because of Kraven's capture, they were now in the lowest tier of class-B and eligible for some serious titles. The one they were aiming for was Enforcer, which would grant them the ability to gain access to any public building at any time, along with free access of public records. It wasn't gaining classified CIA information, but it was a start. They could also recruit lower level mercenaries to join them on their missions, but Vici was too solid of a team to be compromised by the mistakes of strangers.

"Joe throws a helluva party when prompted," Trigger laughed, stopping short of their polished and modded Ford Expedition. "Who's sober enough to drive? I ain't never been shit behind a wheel, you guys know that." He promptly hopped into the backseat.

Aiden, automatically followed, putting an awkward silence in the air. He shut the door a little too hard behind him, offended at Trigger's suggestion.

"I'll do it, I'll do it." Angela sighed. Panther pulled her to the side while he had the opportunity.

"Something wrong? I feel like you're not as festive as the rest of us. What's up baby?" Panther asked sincerely, holding Angela's hands.

Angela let her manicured nails drop with her hands. She tucked a lock of newly dyed brown hair behind her ear and instead gazed up at the moon. Her lush lips parted, and she was speaking to him, yet Panther couldn't hear anything. Her beauty drowned out her sound.

"I guess it'll be fine for now." Angela finished. Panther gave her a quick kiss as she got into the driver's seat, rolling her eyes on the sly. She was really tired of this. The male testosterone on the team often overran rationality, even Kokei had been sucked into it over the years. While revving up the vehicle, she thought again about Onyx. He seemed like a free spirit, yet thousands of miles outside of her reach. For now, she supposed she would have to stick it out, and do the best that she could do to regulate this band of overgrown children.

"Hey Blade! Here to collect earnings I presume?" Joe merrily clasped Blade's arm and gave him a warrior's handshake.

"And to check the rankings, you know..."

"Big boy stuff." Joe finished for him, roaring with boisterous laughter. Joe placed a shining silver check on the table and slid it to Blade, who pocketed it in his trademark trench-coat.

"So what's new?" Blade asked glancing around. He could see a few regulars, notably Sterk of the top three. That meant that two of the best bounty hunters on the east coast were in the building that night. There were also many class-B personnel present. Tonight seemed to be a rather elitist kind of night. Instead of alternative or metal bands playing up front, there was a jazz group called Sinestra cranking out calming melodies that gave the air a dignity that could be tasted with every breath. Blade took note of the confetti scattered everywhere, balloons up on the ceiling, and the remnants of a large cake at the corner of the bar. He took off his shades and raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, a party paid for by Vici, the new rank 25. They've really been stepping their game up since they got back into their registration. Hell, I remember the time when CIA agents brought them in and they were class-C. You better watch your back Blade, or they'll be above you in a few months at the rate they're going." Joe slid Blade a drink, which he declined, yet ended up drinking anyway. It was Twilight Madness, Joe's exclusive concoction.

"Because they captured Kraven again," Blade spoke, all business. He had to be careful. The alcohol from earlier was still in his system, and he couldn't afford to get drunk in a place full of mercenaries. Vizuela code be damned, if he passed out drunk, as the only known day-walker on the planet, he wouldn't live to see the light of tomorrow. "Sterk stood for that? I'd imagine the cat to Rule of Five before a fuckin' party happened in this joint."

"Can't, he's already been blocked by an Unspeakable. I must say, it's surprising as shit that Sterk is so strictly bound to Vizuela that he wouldn't even think about breaking any of the 550 mercenary codes. He knows every one by heart and while he may be a little cruel on missions, having one of the worst compatibility scores of the top 50, he obeys every code like it was his life."

Blade nodded. He rose to leave, not really taking interest in the surroundings anymore. He imagined a full day's meditation would have to follow this night of drunken adventure.

Two days later, Squeaks took a well-deserved trip to the library. He was there to buy his favorite manga titles in bulk, as he often did. He guessed what they said was true: What was money if you couldn't spend it? He didn't see himself as a saint, but if buying graphic novels from the local library could benefit troubled youth across the Nexus, he was down for it.

"Naruto volumes 600-610, One Piece volumes 1211-1250, and Bleach volume 500 please," Squeaks spoke to the librarian. She was a sweet, elderly woman with horn-rimmed glasses that enlarged her kind eyes behind them.

"We just got most of those in last week, let me get them from the back for you." The lady spoke. Squeaks smiled, excitement brimming inside of him. With this many chapters of the 'big three' he'd be satiated on manga for a long time.

"The rich otaku himself no doubt." The voice had Squeaks turning a full 180 degrees faster than lightning. His heart was already racing, armpits sweating and teeth chattering, though it wasn't cold, and he didn't know who the voice belonged to.

A man at least a foot taller than him faced him with a cold sneer. He was wearing a parka lined with down, which didn't compliment the 75 degree weather at all. In face and body, he resembled a Chinese Hun warrior, pointed black mustache and goatee devouring the bottom of his face. His wrists were adorned with gold bangles that matched the ones around his ankles. Squeaks's face started turning red, and his breaths quickened when he noticed the Reese Weiland sickle in his right hand, with a knife coming out of the back of the handle. You didn't buy that kind of weapon without knowing how to use it. Squeaks knew something was wrong, and called for backup immediately. The man didn't move at all.

"Slow!" The man cried. Squeaks couldn't believe his eyes. As he watched five of his best guards attack the man, he could only describe the scene as something from a rated-M video game, the gore so intense, it reminded him of the Gantz manga.

The man weaved his hand through the air, creating a black bar that not only blinded his men, but also rendered them completely helpless as he hacked them to pieces, stabbing a thick hole into the backs of each skull with the small attached knife after killing and dismembering everyone with the extraordinarily fast sickle in his hand. When he stood to face Squeaks again, the floor was littered with body parts, not only had each limb been forcibly severed, but fingers and toes scattered the ground like pigeon food. It was as if his men were made of jelly, and the sickle carved through their bones like they didn't exist.

"What do you want? I'll give you money! I have plenty, we can work something out!" Squeaks cried out, falling backward over a chair. The man didn't advance, but the nauseating smell of death was enough to drive Squeaks backward. There wasn't a single stain on the man's heavy clothing. His weapon didn't even have any blood on it.

"Oh, I simply want to introduce myself and ask a question." The man gestured, sheathing both the sickle and the attached knife as a show of good faith. The lights all went out. The only thing in Squeaks's vision was the vampire in front of him. When he reached for the chair he'd fallen over, in an attempt to break one of its wooden legs for defense, it wasn't there. Instead, no matter which way he turned, there was only darkness, save for the man taller than six feet to his front. Piss blackened his khaki shorts, and soon touched his hands. He tried crawling backward, but no matter how far away he inched, the man's distance never changed. He was fucked.

"I'm Salazar. Nice to meet you Squeaks. Now stay true to your name and rat out the day-walker. Where's Blade? You have less than thirty seconds to give me a location, or you'll be nothing more than chopped up holocaust remains."

"I, I can't tell you that!" Squeaks choked out. He was crying now, looking all around himself, yet seeing nothing. His body faded into blackness as well, rendering him immobile. He couldn't feel anything that wasn't a part of his head, and it scared him to death. He couldn't stand, he couldn't wipe his tears, and he couldn't even hold himself up. Painfully, as his arms gave out, his head painfully collided with a blunt object on the floor, leaving a huge knot on his head. Vision limited to thick boots made of rough animal skin, Squeaks watched in horror as the sound of tinkling gold filled his ears. Moments later, even his vision went black.

"That's not what I wanted to hear." Salazar disparaged, clicking his tongue once in extreme contempt.

That was the last thing Squeaks ever heard.


	9. Chapter 8: Independence Day

**Chapter Eight**

Blade took another elongated deep breath, ignoring the reactive agents coursing through his bloodstream. Again, there he was, sitting Indian-style amidst complete darkness, until a giant red, blood-colored moon bathed the area in an iridescent light. The setting was so conventional to him that he could have smiled, but he did not. Rarely was there a time where this deceivingly pleasant atmosphere didn't present to him any horrors of the past, small mental agonies that made him want to do crazy things. These recollections were always best left forgotten. With his recent memory enhancement due to the alienic weapon he'd found at the weapons cache, Blade expected this meditation to be the worst one he'd done in a long time.

The locale around him dissolved into a familiar scene from fifteen years ago. The same log cabin erupted around him so quickly that it disorientated him, but only for a moment. Scents filled his nose from dried out incense sticks scattered about the wide cabin on wooden furniture that would be all but too easy to burn. The sun pierced a window, creating an atmosphere filled with visible light filaments. The entire place was coated in a small film of dust. Even the two handmade couches carried the air of abandonment. His eyes scanned a well-stocked bookshelf, filled with titles relating to herbal medicine and the natural spirits of the world. Blade was only looking for one person, and if she was not here, then his prior commitment would go into the darkness, never to be revealed again.

There was a picture. Blade hadn't remembered it back at the weapons cache, but it was as clear as day now. Framed in an intricate knot-work of primroses, the picture was the only thing in the entire place that held a sense of continuity, life, and substance. It was the kind of picture Blade wondered why anyone would dream of leaving it behind. He stared into the still photo, halting his search for the mysterious, exotic beauty that was in it. Two faces beamed at him, one of them being Jade's. Her eyes were squinting in the sunlight, but she was obviously overjoyed, holding up a peace symbol next to the male in the photo, who was crouched near her belly. The man's features were clean-cut, he was African American, carried himself with an air of seriousness, and wore a military uniform that brilliantly complimented Jade's light green maternity dress. With his head turned to the side, he leaned against her stomach, possibly hearing the baby's expression of happiness as well, or feeling a gentle kick. He too, held up a peace sign, and while his eyes were laden with the amount of work he surely had on his shoulders, the man was extremely happy.

Blade's heart thumped harder in his chest as the memory continued. He had the feeling that he was on the very edge of a cliff, and that there was a wealth of information at hand, if he would only jump into the unknown abyss beneath. Jade's left hand was adorned with a magnificent ring that bore her namesake, surrounded by a glossy silver band with a cathedral setting. This hand was placed idly atop the faded haircut that the young man had, caressing his forehead in a way that transcended the boundaries of the photo itself. It was here that the missing pieces clicked together in his mind. Ignoring the fact that the cabin he now stood in was in the background of the photo, and that the two were posing in the large meadow of flowers in front of it, he glanced again at the faces, and it all became clear. This was Jonathan in his younger years, and he was either married or engaged to Jade Tsulah.

Furthermore, the child still matriculating in the mother's womb was the same one that he'd failed to save five years ago. There was no denying it. Blade could not help but attach the unborn child to the panic-stricken face of its mother when he was snatched away by minions of darkness. Along the same tangent, he connected the incident to the events in his own birth. Even he hadn't had a chance to live as a human before prenatal events warped his future in a way that Blade could never reverse.

Blade looked up, and there she was, bound to the covenant she made with him, pressing forward to accept any means necessary to achieve her revenge. The glass in her hand shattered into pieces along the floor. Time translated into urgency, and Blade could hear the squadrons of American soldiers drawing closer and closer to the cabin.

"You remembered." Jade simply spoke, while Blade took in the fur jacket and beaded bracelets that reminded him of the first time he'd met her five years ago. She hadn't aged a day, though grief and a desire for vengeance had a way of making an almost imperceptible coloring of her persona. Blade crossed the room to her, dropping his fangs. There were no regrets as he pierced her skin, and tasted her lifeblood. The action sent an electrifying response through his entire body, making him shudder. Keys to ancient locks, information, and sources of power unlocked within his mind. His eyes quickly fluctuated from their normal color to yellow, to red, and back again.

Once again, Blade had to murder someone he'd adapted concrete feelings for, whether intentionally or not. As he drove the sword through the center of her body, he also drove it through the child from five years ago. Jade bled out immeasurable guilt and her innermost fears while falling, lifeless, to the floor of the cabin. Her wedding ring slipped off her finger, rolling across the room to a hidden space underneath one of the couches. The band of silver clanged against the wall one final time before going silent. Blade didn't have time for emotions; he was a vampire hunter, and currently a general before all else. When the soldiers burst into the room, lasers from semi-automatic weapons coating every inch of the space, he delegated tasks and barked orders as if nothing had happened. It would leave a permanent scar upon his heart though, so he'd chosen to repress the memories.

Blade relaxed, returning to reality, though his eyes were still closed. He was sitting on the floor in his room, sword inches away and horizontally resting in the space in front of him. Blade now understood Syfy's persistence in his pursuit, understood his drive for revenge and his intense anger. Blade surmised how a woman could drive a man to his end, but the circumstances that he and Syfy faced were completely different. With Blade, he often had to kill those with whom he developed an intimate relationship with. While certainly scarring, it was different from having your spouse turned into a vampire, and then not knowing whether she was alive throughout the years or long gone to ash. He didn't just take away Syfy's major source of happiness, he also robbed him of a storybook future, and a family, dooming him to late hours of wondering, excessive nightmares, and a deep hatred for the vampire race as a whole. Blade thought about Jade. He didn't know her whereabouts or her actions, she wasn't drawn to him in any way as a day-walker, and he hadn't seen her since he converted her into a vampire. What was she doing today? Had she found the abductor of her child?

Blade ended the introspection when he felt Aisha's eyes on him from inside the small chamber. He wasn't unnerved by the fact that she'd soundlessly slipped into the room by diving into the various shadows along the walls, nor was he affected in any way when she gazed upon his mouthpiece with a respectfully hidden level of disgust. Blade could recognize his current symptoms however. His breathing and heart rate increased doubly, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood erect. That wasn't all, bit by bit throughout his entire body, he felt changes occurring. His vampire traits were expressing themselves, and save the human eye color, his entire body was acclimating to his surroundings. Aisha was not a threat.

Blade opened his eyes, looking directly at Aisha in the opposite corner of the room, pressed tightly against the wall. Her shoulders were hunched forward, muscles slightly tense. Today she wore a traditional Chinese dress with silky rope fastenings down to her waist. The red and gold fabric split at her sides revealing her legs, which were slightly off center in their stance. Aisha even had her hair pinned up. Blade wondered if she was going to meet Lucia later that day. Currently, there was a question on her mind, and she was uncertain whether or not she should say it aloud. Blade nodded in her direction.

"I can get you Vladimir's ring, but it's going to take some time." Aisha admitted, looking diagonally at the floor. Embarrassment quickly claimed her. She had no idea how long it would take to win the championship, she hardly knew anything about it at all. She felt like an idiot for coming to Blade with a lack of such crucial knowledge.

"No need to be embarrassed, Onyx and I will focus on the other items. There's must be a deeper story to this thing. If Vladimir's ring has a safeguard, or complex stipulation surrounding it, it must be very important. The ring could provide essential clues for taking him down. You're fine Aisha. Don't feel that you are alone in this. You're with us for a reason," Blade finished calmly.

Aisha watched him stand, and then walked toward him, stopping a fair distance away. Her saunter was slightly wobbly simply because of the way he said her name. Could she tell him that she was developing feelings for him? Could she tell him that she needed to get away for a while, to do her own thing to clear her head? If the need arose, would she be able to leave him for good? She nervously shifted her weight to her other leg, intensely grateful that he could not skim the surface of her thoughts like she could his. At the moment, the sexual tension between them was at an all-time high, his vampire elements bringing out a primal, but necessary fixation within her.

Blade watched the battle rage in her mind. Aisha was biting her lips, unconsciously giving off signals of her deep inner struggle. On the other hand, her stance had gone from completely resigned and embarrassed to open and inviting. His words were carrying more than just a little influence for her, which was precisely why he remained quiet. Aisha would have to battle her own demons; he could not do that for her.

She looked up at him slowly, drinking him in for a few self-serving seconds before looking down at the floor. She wanted to bow before him, before his quirks, his beliefs, his strength, his sexiness. The power within him made her mind scatter in thousands of different directions. Her skin flushed slightly red, heating up her palms and making them sweat. Aisha couldn't focus to save her soul. Weaving dangerously, she managed to successfully fall against him, being sure to land her delicate hands upon his beating heart, which quickened under her hand. She was glad for long hair, because it masked the raging lust threatening to consume her at any moment. Aisha felt that she might explode if she pressed her way any further, yet surprisingly enough, she wouldn't mind going to ash right then and there.

"Stay here." Blade commanded, unsheathing his weapon and blowing his door open with a swift kick. He was gone in a second. Less than a minute later, after Aisha was able to successfully gather herself together and summon self-control, alarms blared throughout the entire base. She dashed out of the room to avoid being locked inside of it. Sunlight streaked through every hallway through handmade traps, and video feeds popped up along monitors that flipped out from the walls. A redheaded vampire had made it in, and she looked mad as hell.

Blade swooped in from the rafters, hoping to catch the intruder off guard, but she met him mid-air, astonishing him. Curved claws opened fresh wounds on his arm before he kicked her away, landing in a perfect crouch on the hardened floor. A few yards away, she also landed, but on all fours, immediately dashing at him, infuriated. Blade assessed the motions as feline, preparing himself mentally for quick and speedy attacks. The adjustment was almost too easy for him. When she barraged him with slick leg flairs and vicious pawing, he parried every blow. As blow by blow failed, she became no less angry, but the fatigue began creeping up on her, waiting patiently as a cobra to strike all her efforts down.

"You won't win." Blade boomed confidently. His voice was so strong it echoed off the large steel beams that held the establishment up. The words came so smoothly from his lips that he hadn't noticed it was in an ancient vampire tongue by the name of Dananu. The feline warrior paused, which gave Blade time to execute a perfect Sambo throw, which sent her rolling. He watched as she neared a large square of sunlight, suspecting it would be moments before she torched, but was left unfulfilled.

As if a switch turned on inside her, at the last possible moment, she recovered, flying through the air and arching her back to avoid the fatal patch of light. Again, she landed rather gracefully on all fours, and growled meanly. Her fangs lengthened, and her thick red hair darkened before his eyes.

"You killed Squeaks you malicious bastard. I will have your head." She didn't waste any time monologuing. Her next attacks came with renewed vigor, and he marveled at her swiftly restored vitality. Her claws opened a few new wounds on his chest, but her energy was waning just as quickly as it came. It was as if her strength was a precariously balancing tube of liquid. At one moment, it peaked, but a quick and direct tap on the other side of the tube and it all fled away, betraying her. Meanwhile, Blade hadn't attacked once, conserving his strength by professionally defending.

"Why would I kill the informant I've been working with for over six years now?" Blade reasoned, yet again it came out in Dananu. Feeling the power of the language, the female across from him remained rooted to the spot, though her claws were up and ready to attack. Blade mentally shot Aisha a message that advised her against moving into the area for the time being. This too was unbelievably simple, and he executed it as if he'd known how to do so his entire life. Inside his own mind, Blade received Aisha's telepathic assent.

"How the fuck should I know? But, he's gone!" She screamed irrationally, pulling at her fiery hair. Her distress caused all of her muscles to quake with rage. Blade noticed a change in her eyes, and foresaw the tears falling a full thirty seconds before she began to cry. "I found his body in a library. Do you know how I felt about that? Do you know what happened to the children who wandered in on his corpse? They're scarred, forever. I'm scarred, forever. What would you have me to think? Ever since he started running with you..." she started bawling then, covering her face with her arm.

Blade didn't move, but paid close attention to her every movement. There was no longer a frenetic urgency to her motions, and whatever adrenaline that was in her system had worn itself out. She was no longer on the offensive. Still, Blade opted to keep his distance from her, and to get information before all else. For years Squeaks had been able to stay off the grid, and with his newly acquired hobby, his wealth had skyrocketed, providing ample defenses for any assassin out to get him. Blade had no choice but to narrow it down to a coordinated attack, probably by a group of people, or a single highly skilled vampire. There was no way in heaven or hell that Squeaks could be killed by a human, not with the defenses he had. Blade narrowed his eyes. Again, ancient strength entered his body, coursing through his veins, while also buffering his voice.

"Whoever you are, you need to tell me what condition his body was in when you found it. Were there any recognizable scents on him?" He'd asked this last question based on the feral qualities of the female. She had to have had an excellent olfactory system, or there was no way she could've narrowed down which of the 18 bases that Blade would be in.

In response, the female took her arm away from her face, revealing bloodshot eyes and a snotty nose. Blade had thought that Squeaks was a very happy single man who spent his money on whores, booze and nerd-like fantasies, but the way this female was reacting to his death, it was entirely different. The relationship Squeaks had to her was personal, whether he mentioned it or not.

She spoke as if nervous, and carefully selected her words. There was a huge gap of trust between them, and Blade understood that. Nevertheless, the logic was irrefutable, Blade hadn't killed Squeaks, and this woman clearly believed him, at least at the moment.

"He was lying face down, dead." Blade scrunched his face at the obvious explanation, but caught himself from showing any other emotion or speaking. His steady silence was rewarded when she continued. "There wasn't any blood on him, but the bodyguards...they were fucked up." Her eyes expanded as the memory hit her. Blade arched one of his eyebrows. She certainly was an enigma. One moment she was sobbing her eyes out, the next she was cursing, serious and yet reasonably calm. He had to wonder if she had multiple personalities inside that petite body of hers.

"All of them were dismembered, leaving no connected limbs to the torso. Decapitated heads and fingers were strewn across the library like morbid confetti. As a matter of fact, there was one thing all of the deaths had in common." She placed her fingers on her chin as if to draw forth enhanced thoughts before she verbalized them. "Each head had a hole in the back of it, accurately placed in the center of the occipital bone. The wounds had to be from a knife. As far as scents go, the hole in his head smelled like metal, but it was special. Even with my nose I couldn't pin down which metals they were." She casually shrugged, and then more tears came spilling from her eyes. "I'm Stray, by the way." She spoke, before beginning another round of crying, this time soundlessly.

"The gladiator?" Blade immediately countered, a question mark on his face. Squeaks had rarely mentioned her, but when he did, it was with an intense amount of respect and reverence. He could imagine some romantic and affectionate feelings somewhere in there as well. What confused him was that contrary to how built Kylecia and Sophie were, Stray was practically a stick, with rough sand colored khaki shorts and a halter-top. If anything, she could be modeling a clothesline for casual-wear somewhere, but that was only if she had an excellent makeup artist. Blade usually didn't judge women so harshly, but as far as redheads with freckles went, this one wasn't sexually appealing at all.

"Didn't know the famous Blade was interested in bloodspots," Stray remarked with a smug look. The amused look in her hazel eyes seemed almost flirty.

"I'm interested in the party responsible for murdering my trusted informant." Blade responded in a deeper, darker octave. His mind was flashing through potential suspects and the answer came to him quicker than he thought. "Vici." Blade spat, as if the word disgusted him. The female in their group wielded a special kind of knife with magnetic properties, and with the blind man in addition to their gauntlet toting leader, there was enough sword power between them all to take out a few bodyguards. Blade should have known this was coming, revenge for the shield he'd taken from Lotus.

"I don't know who or what Vici is, but kill them for me." Stray offered, somewhere between pleading and plotting.

While he certainly wasn't taking orders from an unattractive female vampire, or any vampire at all for that matter, Stray was right about Vici needing to pay for their crime. This was a step too far for them, and too close to him. Even though they were humans, Blade would show them no mercy, and he knew how to organize their meeting. "Leave." He ordered Stray, who sucked her teeth defiantly, but stalked away on all fours tail twitching in the air. Blade punched a lengthy code into a hidden keypad on a metal pillar that disengaged the automatic lock down, sealing the sunlight from the facility. Before Stray was out of sight, he careened through the shadows at lightning speed and frightened her by blocking her path. His fangs lowered evilly.

"If I get word that you've told anyone about our location, or if you ever decide to return uninvited, I will take your skull and break it into fragments of dust." Blade threatened, seeing a visible representation of her fear in her aura. He blinked and the colors surrounding her body were gone. Stray didn't seem to notice, she was cringing away from him as if he might attack her at any second. When she reached the wall, she shook her head slowly, trying to reassure him of her compliance. Blade could tell she wanted to vanish on the spot.

"I understand, I do." She stuttered, edging her way past him and sprinting at a breakneck speed toward the exit of the hideout. Incredulous, Blade pounded his palm into his own head a few times. A raging headache was soon to come, but until then, he was distracted. The thirst was coming back for the first time in decades at an alarming rate, and his heart pounded violently against his chest. He felt like it was trying to leave his body. Moments later, Blade's throat went bone dry, and he found it hard to breathe. While clutching his chest madly, a few strands of thought away from mindlessly ripping off his shirt, his vision blacked. All he could think about was blood. There was a need for it greater than food, greater than water, and greater than shelter.

He collapsed onto the cold floor, but didn't lose consciousness. Blade still couldn't see, but he reached forward anyway, trying to pull a source of blood nearer to him psychically. His brain throbbed painfully and his muscles abruptly became heavy as cinder blocks. An agonized groan escaped his lips, before his right arm fell pathetically to the floor in front of him with a smack. His vision slowly returned, and he found Aisha kneeling before him, but then he blacked out again as an instinct so ferocious it wrenched up from within his gut, gripped him entirely. Blade was out of control, and Aisha was a helpless victim to his carnivorous craving.

It was a nightmare. Blade knew it was a nightmare, yet the horror didn't stop. He didn't wake up. He couldn't wake up. There he was, in a public library, virtually empty on a Sunday afternoon, watching Squeaks request books from the librarian. The place was as unfamiliar to him as the moon, but there was no doubt that it was real. Blade observed the short woman vanishing in the back before a bell rang out behind him, informing him that more people had arrived.

"Stay back Trigger, if one of us is thrown off balance, you'll know when to take the shot." Blade's ears picked up Panther's command easily. He darted through eight-foot tall aisles of books until he saw them, but by then it was too late. When he emerged in the main aisle that led all the way to the reference desk, Squeak's bodyguards were already in full combat.

The slaughter was horrible and methodological. In all his years of hunting, Blade had seen humans stoop to levels lower than dirt, but this was pure hell. In the beginning, either Panther or Kokei would fatally maim one of the five burly guards, and then laugh manically while Trigger blew their heads off their shoulders with shots so clean that it was perversely magnificent. That wasn't all though. While the bodyguards didn't beg for their lives, or give up the fight, the hopelessness was clear on their faces when two of them had been killed. Blood splashed all over her; the woman kicked a few of the heads just for the fun of it, making sure to gruesomely stab a hole in the back of each one.

"One coming your way!" Aiden warned, as Panther tossed him a human head with eyes glazed over, staring into the afterlife. Although it seemed impossible for a blind man, Aiden, taking a shredded arm as a bat, knocked the head through the air, breaking a framed high schooler's imitation of Vincent Van Gogh's Starry Night. Angela didn't even give it a chance to hit the ground; she leaped into the air and viciously stabbed the back of the head with a sharp twist of her torso. When she stood up again, the bloody carnage remained on the end of her knife, and she flicked it away, her face callous and now rounding on Squeaks.

Blade ran forward to help, but never went anywhere. The faster he moved, the longer the aisle grew, each step forward pushing everything else a step away. The aisle continued to expand, seemingly endless. He covered his ears as shots thundered from Trigger's gun, daring Squeaks to move from where he'd fallen to the ground in fear. Panther made it his business to further disembowel his guards directly in front of him. Angela cackled while stabbing more and more holes into their torsos, ignorant of the motionless, grotesque pieces of flesh and the blood they spat onto her.

"If you turn into a ghost after you die, make sure to tell Blade that it's against the commandments to steal." Panther sneered.

Squeaks hadn't even gotten the chance to argue before the female appeared behind him and jammed her magnetic blade into his occipital lobe, killing him instantly. Not thoroughly satisfied, she kicked him in his back so that he slipped off her blade, falling to the floor like a broken mannequin.

"What a bitch." She cursed at his body, before the group collectively fled, muttering furiously. The librarian reemerged, immediately terrified beyond words. She had a heart attack, and eyes widened by horror, fell against her desk, the many books she'd been clutching falling to the ground ominously. Blade had stopped running, but couldn't believe his eyes. Vici was a nightmare, and had to be stopped.

Blade awoke in a cold sweat huffing constantly. Above him, Aisha let out a relieved sigh. She placed a lukewarm folded cloth over his forehead, and he calmed down immediately. The dream had seemed so real, it took another minute for him to properly adjust to reality. His headache was still annoying him. "Are we alone?" Blade asked Aisha, sitting so that his back was against the headboard. He recognized the makeshift infirmary immediately, and had to give Aisha credit. His arm was hooked up to an IV unit and his vitals were being monitored on a nearby screen. While there were no surgical tools nearby, it didn't take a rocket scientist to decipher the look on Aisha's face. She was genuinely worried about him, and had nursed him out of whatever the fuck condition he'd been in however long ago that was.

"We are." Aisha answered simply, pushing him back to stop him from getting up. Whereas earlier he'd be able to instantly tell if Aisha was being flirtatious or gruff, now it was impossible. The vampire offered him no nonverbal clues either. She sat down in a chair and swiveled to face him.

"I think I know what happened. Did I?" The question hang in the air like a bad odor, and for a moment neither of them said anything. They merely stared at each other without breaking eye contact. Then, Aisha showed both sides of her neck and her wrists. Nothing was abnormal. He hadn't gone crazy and bit her. Still, Blade couldn't avoid the feeling of outstanding guilt. He knew he'd crossed a line somewhere, but couldn't figure out where. Had he passed out or had Aisha incapacitated him?

"Care to explain?" Aisha asked, crossing her legs. She had never seen Blade act that way before after taking the vampire serum, and he had never came on to her that way before...calling her like that. She shuddered, yet he didn't notice. For that moment, Aisha was very glad he was fully human again. Part of her was slightly disappointed though, for without the vampire prowess, Blade seemed to be missing very simple things, like his transformation. It took him several quiet minutes of pondering to even formulate an answer.

Still slightly paranoid, Blade lowered his voice to a whisper. "The vampire traits are getting stronger, probably due to Squeaks's death, as odd as that sounds. The change is triggered by spiking adrenaline and anger, but I didn't have any idea I was changing. There were additional abilities sure, but I felt human the entire time. I felt like me." Blade massaged the bridge of his nose closing his eyes while he did so. This was too damn embarrassing. "I might need a more potent serum, perhaps something entirely new." Blade looked at the ground for a moment. It had been decades since his last change of serums, and Whistler's design had been all but perfect. He couldn't believe he was becoming tolerant of the drug already.

"What about the thirst Blade?" Aisha asked him straight, pointing an accusing finger at him. He had the feeling that she was leaving out some important information, but couldn't think of what that might be. Blade could have slapped himself for how stupid he felt at the moment. The change had taken something else from him, he was sure of it. However, now, the only things that remained were the painful stabs in his temple and feelings of inadequacy.

"I'll have to take double doses for now, until I can develop or obtain something more potent. It might take awhile on my own." Blade regretfully murmured. The admission was causing as much pain as the fact that he'd succumbed to the thirst he had mastered long ago. What he needed on his side was both a reliable technical genius and an experimental scientist. Again, he was blind-sighted by being weak in both departments, despite the years he'd spent hunting vampires. As much as he hated to think about it, there was almost always a time in which he needed someone else for survival.

Aisha turned away from him. "I don't like it. Why don't you just become a vampire already? Stop fighting this. I know you've long ago abandoned the thought of a cure for your curse, so wouldn't it be easier to fight my race while being a full-fledged vampire?" Unaware, Aisha's fangs had lowered and she hissed out her words. If Blade didn't know any better, he'd say that she was challenging him.

Removing the sticky nodes from his chest, Blade swung his legs over the edge of the infirmary bed. Looking down, he noticed an impressive chest wrap that covered the wounds he'd received earlier. There were smudges of blood on the gauze, but he knew the wounds were completely healed, a parting gift from his strange flux. Gathering inner strength, he looked Aisha directly in the eyes. "That's the difference between you and me. You're willing to give in to fate and stop fighting in order to keep your fortitude. I do not. You talk about becoming a vampire as if it's all beneficial. Have you forgotten my current resistance to silver and most importantly sunlight? I might be a target now, but as a vampire I'd be a fucking sitting duck. There's no fucking way I'd be cooped up inside for the rest of my fucking life just because of a warm day. You must be out of your mind."

"If you weren't a day-walker, then no one would want to kill you." Aisha whispered, rising from her chair. She was leaving when Blade called out to her.

"Aisha, wait. I'm going to need your help. In three days, at the Fourth of July Independence Festival I'm going to take out several high value vampires and some personal enemies as well. Be on the lookout for Vici, and anyone else who might have a connection to the legendary artifacts that we're still missing."

Aisha kept walking, dismissing him with a rude wave though she took in his every word. Vici? The hunting squad who wanted to make a name for themselves had somehow gotten on Blade's hit list. She groaned, knowing that the presence of male pride and ego could lead to disastrous results. At the Independence Festival, there would be way too many civilians, and there would be a high death count as well. She shook her head sadly wondering what or who else she should be looking for. In the meantime she had to prepare for the championship, because if she didn't come out on top, then she wouldn't get Vladimir's ring, wouldn't find out about her mother, and she'd be dead.

"I can't believe all this shit happened on a Sunday!" Syfy cursed, knocking a folder of useless witness reports to the ground. No one had seen anything. It was a windy Monday afternoon, but the only evidence of that was Syfy's excellent view of the bustling city from his executive room and the occasional rattling of his wide glass windows. He hadn't been physically outside in days.

Dr. Rashidli tried to calm him down, but to no avail. She didn't like seeing him stressed, but didn't want to hurt him again by crossing the line between a business and a personal relationship. She knew that the kiss had affected him adversely, for the days following, several interns had gotten the shit end of the stick, being paired with him of all people for shooting demonstrations and danger room missions.

"We had to shut down twelve libraries in the vicinity within six hours, block off twenty-five streets and send notices to over 700 families! Parents don't know if their kids are safe anywhere anymore, schools have double patrols, and I haven't been able to sleep for the past 68 hours!" Syfy shrugged, almost as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders and he hoped it would fall off. In a sense, the weight of his responsibility was just that, as heavy as the entire world.

"There's something I want to show you that might change your attitude." Dr. Rashidli mused, holding her hands behind her back like a timid schoolgirl. At first, she was going to try to pacify him by showing him reason, but decided it against it. Though the method was tried and true, it probably wouldn't raise his spirits as high as she needed them to be right now. She couldn't stand it any longer. He was going to be happy; she'd make sure of it.

"What could you possibly have?" Syfy exasperated, still clearly upset. If his hands didn't fall off from the amount of paperwork he still had to do, he would still be frustrated far beyond his limit. He was in the middle of bolstering their HQ and increasing the budget so that they could train more special officers and squad cars would have extra technology designed to more efficiently combat creatures of the night. While silver shrapnel grenades and UV headlights were commonplace, Syfy thought his electromagnetic bio-shield was a very good idea. Dr. N had been doing more than just researching psychic attacks based on chi. He'd also been developing several other things, and with the acquisition of Blade's blood, even if it was only a small amount due to the majority of it being in Oberon's nanosuit, his team of scientists were on their way to an enlightenment period. Syfy could practically smell a technological revolution in the air. He, for one, was ready. If only they had the money to kick start it.

Dr. Rashidli provided him with a simple sheet of printed-paper and she was right. Seconds after looking at it, Syfy couldn't contain the grin on his face. "So Blade's finally coming out of hiding eh? Prepare the nanosuit and contact Oberon. Whether or not this is real doesn't matter, if there are more of these posted in the city then we can expect a massive amount of vampires to congregate near Times Square during the festival. Then we'll wipe them out while safely steering the pedestrians away." Syfy hastily scribbled a detailed plan for that upcoming Wednesday and handed it off to Dr. Rashidli, who bowed in respect before returning to her own desk in the next room. If nothing else, it lifted her spirits mightily seeing Jonathan happier and out of that eccentric mood he'd been in for the past couple of weeks. She just hoped he'd be able to get outside to enjoy the sun during the event. He was developing dark bags beneath his lids, and his bronzed skin was becoming subtly lighter, she'd noticed. Perhaps she'd make an excuse to take him out. A blush crossed her face and she returned to her work, adjusting the temperature control in her spacious room. It was definitely getting too hot in there, and she needed to focus. The next few days would be very busy indeed.

Onyx grunted as he slammed down on the metal hoop. The basketball he was holding plummeted down to the blacktop, bouncing out of bounds afterward. He showboated for a few seconds, sticking his tongue out while hanging with one arm, and then dropped back down, ready to check the ball up with Panther. He slapped Kokei a quick five before guarding Panther, who began a slow but steady dribble that was as confusing as taking calculus in high school.

"Think you can hang huh? You ain't got nothin' on this." Panther taunted, rolling into a smooth crossover and cutting past Onyx. His face turned up in a smile, and his eyes were now on the opposite hoop, a clear cut shot to the hole open just for him. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the ball was gone, and Trigger shouted at him to keep his head in the game. He whipped around and shouted an obscenity before sprinting back toward the opposite goal.

Kokei was truly an amazing sight to see on the court. Beforehand, he'd read a braille layout of the small, but familiar quadrangle and had memorized it effortlessly. All Vici had to do was tell Kokei where the center line was, which direction his team was shooting in and he was zipping around the court able to keep up with both Panther and Trigger. He lined up a three point shot, and scored before Trigger could get into his face.

"And that's how you say game." Kokei laughed, doing a chest bump with Onyx. On the sidelines in a pink tank top with matching miniskirt was Angela, cheering for the winners. She gave the men a big hug and directed the losers toward the Gatorade container.

"You guys need some ice for your burns?" Angela laughed merrily, rising up from a metal side bench. She laid a hand on Panther's sweat ridden shoulder, gaining secret satisfaction from just being near him. It was already a solid 80 degrees outside, but Panther also radiated heat that was slightly unnatural. She sure as hell wasn't complaining though. Sheened with a light layer of perspiration, Panther looked like an African king, and it made her shiver. Her face wasn't the only thing that was happy.

"Let's run that back." Trigger said in his rugged country twang. He was a decent basketball player, and was very enthusiastic when playing. Even in his forties, he was a threat on the court, and he made that known to the entire group.

"I'm game," Onyx responded, placing a white towel over his shoulders. He kinda wished that Tiffany were there to watch him and to cheer him on. While Angela was a very nice piece of Brazilian eye candy, he wasn't going to openly intrude on another man's territory. His relationship with Tiffany wasn't binding in any way.

They were halfway through their third game, having picked up four people along the way, when a piece of paper blew under the metal fence that surrounded the court. Panther was in the middle of a fast break, but seeing Blade's face made him stop the game instantly, signaling a timeout to his team. His eyes scanned the flyer at lightning speed, and then he called over Kokei and Angela.

Impatiently, after three minutes, Onyx started shooting around with the other players. He was exhausted now, playing his hardest to win two out of the three games they'd played. He was glad for the relaxation, and a friendly round of basketball with his new vampire-hunting acquaintances wasn't such a bad thing.

"Sorry y'all but we gotta roll out!" Panther apologized, scooping up his water bottle and heading to their SUV. Onyx groaned, but calmed down a little when Angela gave him another warm hug.

"Call us and we'll set this up again." She crooned, sliding a business card in his hand with her number on it. Her eyes lingered on his for only a few seconds as they made contact, and then she was gone. Onyx watched her walk away with a slight grin, but then returned to ballin with those who had showed up. He wondered what was on the paper that had stopped the game, but didn't care too much about it.

"You think that it's real?" Trigger asked, eying the flyer once again. It was true, the simple one page open invitation for battle could have been made by anyone, human or vampire, but there was something about it that screamed authenticity. As they continued driving through the Nexus and debating it, more and more flyers popped up, on store corners, hanging from streetlights and posted on billboards. If this was real, then Blade had gone through a lot of work to get his point across.

"We've gotta be there." Panther boomed, resolute. If Blade was making a public show, then it was the perfect opportunity to get rid of him. Even if they couldn't take Blade, the opportunity for advancement in Vizuela's mercenary system was too good to pass up. With the many high value targets drawn to a battle with the day-walker, they were sure to take down vampires with bounties on their heads, pushing them closer and closer to the top of the list of ranked teams.

"We must be cautious." Aiden added, and he was exactly right. "An attack of this caliber with streets teeming with creatures of the night is going to be dangerous enough without thousands of humans sticking around for the Independence Day fireworks." He added to prove his point. Trigger, who was sitting across from him in the back seat, gave him a fist pound.

"Should we stick together, or have a complex strategy prepared?" Trigger asked. Angela was about to bring up a strategy but Panther trumped her by speaking up faster.

"We go in guns blazing man. Straight for the vampires while they're distracted by Blade or the lack thereof. The battle starts at 9:30pm according to the flyer, so we strike then. E-Bon will take those closest to us, Trigger will scout for Blade, Angela and I will seek and destroy high value targets. Kokei will back up whoever needs assistance.

The team nodded, not questioning the plan. Though each of them had different tactics that they wanted to use, their loyalty was firm. Panther could be overbearing at times, but when it came down to it, they were all going to do the same thing anyway: kick some vampire ass.

Aisha squirmed in her bed. The covers were thrown clear off the mattress, but there was a fresh layer of sweat on her body, and the sheets beneath her were damp. She was dreaming, but perhaps the dream was a little too good. The bedstead endured several feverish clamps from Aisha's fingers before getting relief as she sought her lower abdomen instead. She could see it so clearly...

Blade moved a little closer, and her breathing stopped as if he'd commanded it to. The heart that had stopped beating years ago thundered against her chest. Her cheeks were blushing so hard that Aisha could feel the heat rising from her face. When he took her hand in a heavy, yet secure grip, she almost lost consciousness. He felt so _damn good._

"Aisha, I need you." Blade spoke, arresting her verbal reply with his eyes. She looked down to his full, lush lips and bit her own nervously. He caused her to tremble with want, and he was making her very, very wet.

"This isn't you; this isn't like the real you." Aisha argued, but it was only halfhearted and she knew it. Blade pulled her against him and the second their bodies collided, her world exploded into a universe of sexual energy. She stopped crossing her arms over her black lace bra and attached them to his ripped, naked shoulders. Without meaning to, her claws dug into his skin, and her fangs lowered. Her nails caused him to moan deeply, and before it was over, she launched herself into his mouth, colors behind her lids blazing as they kissed harder than she could imagine.

Aisha's body was blazing, and the heat only intensified as the time passed. When he looked at her with dull ruby eyes, she knew there was no going back. There were only a few moments when Blade's vampirism took over him, and she wouldn't let this chance escape her. Blade seemed to know that too, and he licked his lips, fangs lowering by themselves. He had a very hungry look in his eyes, and she was happy to offer herself on the menu to him free of charge.

She lifted one of her pale legs and curved it around his waist, nimble pedicured feet clashing against his ebony skin. Before he could touch her, she tore off his clothes with carefully aimed blasts of electric chi. He brushed against her and she squealed with delight. The sensation of their bodies sliding against one another drove her insane. Without her knowing, he placed her hands firmly on her butt and had already lifted her into the air.

"You'll never forget this." Blade commented sensually, teasing her with his words as well as his body.

"Oh yes!" Aisha hollered, putting on a devilish smirk as she pressed herself against him. She removed her bra quickly and embraced the passion of meshing her soft, delicate features with his hardened, masculine ones.

Aisha woke up dripping head to toe in guilt. Not only were her legs shaking, but also her sheets were ruined and she felt the pressing need to take a shower. There were a few tense seconds when she couldn't even bring herself to move, and then she huffed loudly and stood to her feet. She was completely naked. Blade's recent transformation was throwing her way off. Her libido was spiking sharply, and if it weren't for the utmost respect for him, she'd head to his room immediately. If it weren't for that _bitch _Tiffany, then she'd definitely try her hand at an open seduction with Onyx.

Aisha turned on the shower and stepped inside, trying to summon calm. Inside, she knew that her feelings were very wrong, but she couldn't help it. The draw for a mate was almost as strong as the one for blood, and her only real options were the strong, independent men around her that matched her personality. As she scrubbed herself down, she thought again about the coming championship. Just a few days after Blade's suicidal mission was over, she'd be launched into her new life.

Putting that aside, her head swirled as she recalled Lucia's words about her mother. Now, more than ever, it was imperative that she enter that tournament, and kill everyone that opposed her. The idea wasn't too repulsing. She was killing two birds with one stone, getting Vladimir's sacred object while also learning about her mother in the process. However, Aisha had a really strong feeling that the tournament encompassed much more than a simple weekend pastime. From what she'd observed, it was a lifestyle she didn't want. She wanted to be a free bird, not caged in for sport, and definitely not doing so for the benefit of others. She didn't have nearly as much animosity towards Blade using her than Lucia. The main reason was that Lucia's gain was strictly monetary, while Blade's was more noble and probably for the good of the world.

Aisha hesitated when her thoughts hit Blade again. Eventually he'd turn on her. She knew him to be a friend, but above that, he was a vampire hunter. Their swords seemed fated to clash whenever they were in the same territory. Aisha turned off the boiling hot water and began to dry off. She was cleaning behind her ears when she remembered what Kyle had told her. The recollection sent a chill all the way up her spine. She would dread that day...

The phone rang again, blaring another loud and annoying shrill. She had her personal butler pick it up and hold the phone against her ear. The butler cringed slightly with fear. Provoking wrath at this time of night wasn't in his best interest, and there was a very high chance that something particularly evil would happen to him just for being in her presence. He prayed for good news, though uncertain whether or not he should just take the chance and run for himself.

"If you are calling me at this ungodly hour, then I expect you have good news, otherwise things will be looking very grim for you." The woman spoke. On the other end of the line, she heard a man clear his throat before proceeding cautiously with his words.

"Well Minerva, I just called...well I was calling about your policy. It would seem that the settlement for your life insurance policy on Patrick D'Arthur or Squeaks as you know him, is going to be credited to your account soon." The man stopped. Minerva couldn't see him, but she knew he was adjusting his collar and sweating through his button up cotton shirt. It was a gift of hers.

"Slow down Mike, stop stuttering, you're in no real danger here." Minerva spoke sweetly, though her voice was an arctic tundra to the man on the other end.

"We're crediting you with a lump sum just as you specified. In addition, we're working on getting his assets seized and transferred to you." Mike paused to catch his breath, but wasn't going to speak again.

"Oh don't worry about working to seize them, you're fired. Oh and your manager will be coming in tomorrow to relieve you of your office with your replacement in tow. Say hello to your wife for me." Minerva hung up the phone with more viciousness than she'd wanted, slamming the butler's entire body to the ground, splitting open his chin.

Lazily, Minerva rolled onto her back on her queen-sized bed. She ignored the twinge in her nose as she smelled the fresh blood nearby, instead contemplating the intricacies of her white carved ceiling. "Clean yourself up Jordan; no one likes a bleeding butler." She dismissed him with a wave, and he walked out of her bedchamber. His screams rent the air as soon as her door closed, vampires fighting each other for every drop of his blood. Minerva closed her eyes and smiled. Things were going well.

"Where the hell is he?" Panther asked, scanning the crowd. It was growing dark rapidly, and the thousands of bodies around him didn't make things easier. There was chatter that echoed to the far reaches of the Nexus, children crying, kids screaming, and hollered complaints. Their banter was quite the annoyance, making his task of finding Blade even more arduous. There were several uniformed officers on the scene, but crowd control was a lost cause. Even with riot shields up, there were too many people for the sparsely spread officers to be effective. Traffic three blocks in any direction was at a complete standstill. Panther and his team had walked five blocks to get there, and now they couldn't see anything save for a massive crowd of people awaiting fireworks. There was only five minutes to the time depicted on the flyer. Panther balled up the piece of paper and tossed it over his shoulder, redoubling his search. There had to be something he could spot on Blade's person that would uniquely identify him. He just hadn't expected the search for it to be that hard.

Onyx weaved through people in a clever snakelike whip. It was insane the number of yellow eyes he'd already spotted. Even crazier was the fact that none of the humans waiting in anticipation for the fireworks had died yet. It really did seem as if Blade's battle royale was bound to an unwritten honor code of punctuality. He fingered the two semi-automatic weapons at his hips. He'd brought spare ammo in a quick sling over backpack that rested against his lower back. Also hidden were three bowie knives, two UV grenades and a shiny revolver, which was located just beneath his right calf muscle, all locked and loaded, safety switches balancing only millimeters in the on positions. The signal was the explosion of the first firework. As Onyx heard the small boom of the firework jettisoning from the machine located somewhere remotely far from their location, he held his breath. All hell was about to break loose, literally.

Aisha watched the firework explode in the air, a gigantic red flower blossoming before her eyes. The color was only a reminder of the bloodshed that was happening below. As she looked down from atop the roof of a tall news company building, she heard screams pierce even the sound of the bombs blowing up in the air. Vampires in the crowd had gone crazy, slaughtering left and right. As she looked down directly at Blade, she realized that no one had spotted him at all just yet, and Onyx was just as safe. Driven into a frenzy, the vampires were quick, but a new force entered the mix, SPECS.

Aisha watched the officers gun down several threats, exploding vampires into plumes of ash. She was impressed, the rounds disintegrated as soon as they entered the vampires they sought to destroy, so whether or not the vampire had taken a hostage didn't matter at all. There were no accidental homicides, and they were doing quite a good job. A few in the crowd even dared to go hand to hand with silver stakes. The vampires quickly caught wind of them, and started attacking in waves. This rocketed the Daywalker into action. She watched Blade enter the fray, easily destroying several opponents in a matter of seconds moving with double the efficiency of anyone else. Overhead, a shower of sparks from an expertly created flag fell to the earth, reminding everyone of America's independence from Britain. Down below, Blade disconnected heads from torsos, making them independent of their owners. She was reveling in her satisfaction with how things were going, when she saw a huge tractor-trailer with an attached propane tank zoom into the square.

The scene was grisly, the drugged up vampires at the wheel didn't care about anything except for running over Blade, who'd entered their vision. They also threw caution to the wind and were going well over eighty miles per hour. Sadly, Trak-Automatic didn't work for people, and civilian deaths littered the streets, marking them with blood as if a sadistic artist was painting his own inner pain. Aisha saw the truck's blood-spattered tires careen toward Blade and gasped, because his back was turned and it was much too late to dodge the vehicle. She didn't get to see what happened next though, because someone kicked her directly in the small of her back, propelling her over the edge of the building and into a free-fall, hundreds of feet in the air. Gravity was about to make her his bitch.

Blade slammed his shoulder into a cold, hard body, throwing it off balance just enough so that his sword could eviscerate it without him being damaged in the process. He dodged a claw that went for his back and threw a metallic shuriken behind him, the razor edges whirring as a motor propelled the blades in a circular motion in a blur. One shuriken turned seventeen vampires into ash before exploding in the eye of another. Blade smirked as he broke an arm, and then he heard the horn.

Looking to the west, he saw the tractor-trailer, and knew the two vampires inside were out to get him. From the looks on their faces, they were both drugged up beyond the limits of the body, whether human or vampire. As they cackled and slapped each other, the truck propelled forward even faster, though SPECS was trying to shoot out their tires. They were unsuccessful for three painstaking seconds, but then they were able to take out two crucial tires that sent the truck into a deadly spin. Blade realized that he was seconds away from dying himself, and that there was no way he'd be able to dodge the 5,000 pound death machine screeching along the roadway.

He closed his eyes, blue chi coming off him in pulsating flames. Time slowed to a crawl, but only for him. Aligning his sword with the sky, he curved his arm into a wide crescent, feeling his muscles relax and his breathing so short and controlled that a soothing calm warmed him from the balls of his feet to the crown of his head. Blade's boots dug into the asphalt and he forced all of his body weight into his feet. An ethereal line of white light followed the tip of his sword, while the flames coming off his body intensified. Time returned to normal, and the metal tractor-trailer slammed into him, breaking every bone in his face and chest.

"Somebody want to tell me who the fuck let that tanker past our roadblocks? Did no one think about using spike strips long before it breached the outer perimeter?" Syfy yelled into his radio. Alpha, Beta and Theta squads were eliminating vampires as efficiently as possible, with minimal casualties, while Gamma and Zeta were helping him evacuate the helpless fodder for the vampires. As time passed and the fireworks continued, Syfy couldn't escape the pain of it all. He only had to walk a few steps to see someone trampled to death, someone's head wrenched to the breaking point, but loosely attached with fang holes in it, or simply a mangled corpse. It was no surprise when the counters in the evacuation squads alerted him of several heart attacks. The medics couldn't get in fast enough, and late night traffic didn't help anything. He cursed at the sheer amount of people that were still within the killing range of the deadly creatures. You'd think seeing hundreds of people running away would alert some people, but others were still sitting in lawn chairs videotaping the fireworks. Officers in riot gear barked orders with fluorescent orange megaphones, waving their hands wildly to direct the stampedes of bodies. _Was it worth this many deaths? Was the gain significant enough?_

Syfy couldn't cerebrate these questions for long though, because the huge propane truck had exploded, sending a fiery mushroom cloud into the sky and killing dozens of people near the impact. He helped an elderly man climb back to his feet while rattling off instruction after instruction through his radio. Damage control was to move in immediately, and medical teams were escalated to high priority, which meant in a nutshell that whoever owned any of vehicles that stood in the fortified medical trucks' way was shit out of luck. Lawsuits be damned, he had lives to save.

Syfy looked back to the explosion, and it was only for a moment, but he saw the shades that made his fists shake in absolute rage. It was Blade. Syfy was going to eliminate him for good.

Kyle's head sharply turned toward the door of his shop. He was counting his money for the day after taking final inventory and paused, sliding the entire stack of cash in a hidden drawer beneath the main cashier's counter. He could swiftly deal with any run-of-the-mill miscreants, but had a strong hunch that the person entering was nothing of the sort.

"We're closed." Kyle spoke with finality, though he knew the vampire that had just walked in had no intentions of leaving.

Salazar brushed invisible dust off his left shoulder, which was adorned with a large metal pauldron, as was his right. Again, he was dressed in three layers, but this time there was a full coat of Chinese mail protecting his body. He had a helmet that framed his face perfectly, his black hair snaking out of a ponytail in its top. Whenever he stepped, the armor clinked. He turned to the Ninjutsu master and laughed.

"Consider this overtime." Salazar waved his arm and every display within the store crumbled into pieces. Kyle was quick to burst into action though, throwing seven paper bombs in Salazar's direction. The bombardment caused him to fly through the glass window in the front, and land directly on a parked car outside, setting off the alarm.

Kyle grabbed his most sacred weapon: a wooden sword embellished with Japanese symbols dating back to the early 15th century, kicked open the front door and stopped abruptly in his tracks. There was no light at all except for the occasional firework blowing up in the distance, illuminating everything in a quick, but ghostly aurora. Salazar was moving, and Kyle tracked his sounds. It wasn't that hard. The ninja had trained for a decade wearing blindfolds months upon months at a time. Kyle could adapt to losing any combination of his senses, but that didn't mean it was easy to fight in complete darkness. He was clashing with a weapon before he knew it, and identified it as a sickle by the way Salazar's arms had to be moving to block his quick, graceful slashes.

"A sickle huh? What's the grim reaper want with my life?" Kyle joked, sprinting alongside Salazar, who was accelerating at an unbelievable pace with the heavy armor weighing him down.

"The day-walker. Where is he located?" Salazar asked, sliding into a sweep so fast that Kyle tripped headfirst over his extended leg. He caught himself on one hand, launching his feet into Salazar's breastplate, knocking him to the ground. A purple blast rent the sky with an exhilarating detonation. Following several squeals, the sky flashed again, showing Salazar recover. There was a spot of blood on his cheek, and he wiped it with disgust. At least this was more interesting than killing the otaku.

Kyle's eyes flashed orange. For a few tense minutes, Salazar stood directly across from him, not saying anything, nor moving an inch. Then, as if a celestial switch had been flipped, the street was bright with lights everywhere, coming from apartment buildings, streetlights, headlights and even flares scattered along the roadway that Kyle hadn't noticed before. Needless to say, the sudden overwhelming brilliance caused his pupils to dilate, disorientating him.

Salazar struck with the knife aimed directly at Kyle's head. The Chinese vampire thought it would end there, but he underestimated the ninja. Kyle whipped around so fast that Salazar was blind-sighted while a giant fireball rammed into his body, searing his armor and burning his flesh. He waved his arms, trying to shrug off the blow, but several more blows banged against his shoulders and his legs. Salazar was helpless to the renewed assault, which ended with a laudable smack in the face from the wooden sword, which knocked his helmet off his head and into oblivion. Salazar coughed, watching in horror as his custom made armor shriveled into pathetic pieces of twisted metal. His first layer gone, Salazar stood to his feet, careful to avoid the still burning pieces of metal that he flung away with disdain. He wasn't playing games anymore. He smirked for Blade's sake. What a waste it was to have such loyal friends if they were going to die protecting his little secret.

"Deadly Sword Technique, Residual Moon." Blade whispered to the heavens as the vehicle exploded a safe distance behind him. He'd sliced the front of the truck directly down the middle, killing the vampires inside and igniting the propane with one strike. After that, several things happened at once. From the corner of his eye, Blade noticed Jonathan, wide-eyed, and suddenly determined. He was reaching for a gun. Dodging behind the wreckage, Blade wasn't moving for long when he heard the distinct yowl of an exotic panther, and he was forced to jump into a reactive somersault to avoid a pouncing one attacking him with silver claws. Next, a vampire lunged for his neck, but burned up the moment he decided to do so. Blade scanned the rooftops and saw the sniper from Vici. He dropped to the ground to avoid another bullet, and then, using a sewage lid, deflected two more bullets that wanted him gone.

The panther hadn't stopped its relentless pursuit, and drew too much attention. Blade was heading away from the square, knowing he was being tracked by the police and Vici. Vampires also spotted him, but were too busy fighting against the many officers that had suddenly leaked onto the battlefield. He needed to loose Syfy and quickly. Vici he didn't mind handling alone, for it was the reason he'd orchestrated this event in the first place.

"Give it up Blade; we've got you right where we want you." Blade looked up in time to see two figures dash straight through the middle of the red and blue police chopper, and it's dive-bomb into a gaudy department store soon after. The megaphone used to utter the taunt fell down and landed on a civilian's head, instantly killing him. Glass rained down on Blade, but he couldn't stop moving, for the panther was right on his heels. Reaching into his pocket, he dropped some military grade spikes, which stabbed into the panther's feet as it chased Blade, effectively slowing its gait to a crawl. Its disgruntled yowls soon were in the distance. Even so, he wasn't out of the water just yet.

Syfy emerged from around a corner, firing a small, yet extremely powerful pistol. Blade ducked the shot, and a parking meter was decimated instead, spilling over twenty dollars in quarters onto the sidewalk. Blade threw one of his flash bangs to the ground, and then shot a flare diagonally into the sky that left a lime-green trail of smoke behind it. Hopefully Aisha would notice and start the second phase of the plan.

"Your timing is really shitty!" Aisha screamed out to Blade, even though there was no way that he could hear her as she plummeted from the burning chopper, using her flaming swords to knife her way into one of the many glossy windows of a skyscraper. Behind her, an Amazonian woman landed in the window, slinging her whip Aisha's way, ripping a clean wound across her abs. Aisha cried out with the sudden pain, the jaguar tooth's bite easily tearing through her clothes and opening her skin. She felt the slicing pain deep down in her bones. Her brain screamed with her, trying to shut down after the simple attack. Was it poison? Aisha didn't know, but she wasn't giving up the fight.

"Jigoku no honoo!1" Aisha raged, now leaving a tall, trail of black flames behind her where her sword dragged along the ground. The scorching cursed flames devoured everything in their path. Workers were in a panic, but had nowhere to run as the hellish flames burned straight through their bones, consuming them all in an unavoidable conflagration. Despite this, Aisha could still smell the Amazonian woman's blood, and knew she was somehow still following behind her.

"Here goes nothing," Aisha murmured, flying down a single flight of stairs before shooting through the other side of the building, once again in the cold, night air. She landed on an enormous float of Spiderman, in the middle of the late night parade. Amara's whip slashed past her head, having been blocked by Aisha's silver blade. People were pointing and staring now, as the two danced around each other in a predatory circling. Aisha launched more hellfire from her silver sword, but Amara was too quick. She was skinnier than Aisha, and seemed borderline malnutritioned. Despite that, she had beautiful black hair that covered her small breasts comfortably and clothing made from a thin weaved fabric that matched her skin tone. Her skirt hang off her bony hips dangerously, the majority of the fabric securely around her left leg, while it rode high on the right. Aisha couldn't tell if she was naked or not because of her hair, but she did have a toned caramel belly and ivory rings on two of her toes. Her black eyes were piercing, always aware and always assessing. Three necklaces hugged her long neck unforgivably, each lined with different teeth from different animals. As Amara attacked her again, Aisha truly believed that she didn't just buy the necklaces at your local thrift store. She must have personally hunted down and killed each of the creatures she wore on her body.

"Give me back my armband; this is your final warning." Amara sneered coldly. The pair tore down a floating cannon and now ran through a group of people in the Rochester High Marching Band. They were surrounded on both sides by applauding pedestrians, who'd opted for the parade since the best location for the fireworks had been trashed. Aisha knew best that some people never changed.

"It is mine, so come take it!" Aisha threatened, fangs lowering and eyes flashing a brilliant red sporadically.

"Send in Oberon, this is out of control," Syfy barked. He'd lost Blade's trail at the entrance to a well-known art gallery, yet knew without a doubt that the day-walker hadn't entered. He scanned the streets left and right, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. There were fires everywhere, and even people in their apartment complexes were locking themselves in with a shout.

"He must be after something. I have to figure out what the point of this battle royale even is. What is his focus?" Syfy mused mostly to himself. He whipped around in shock when he saw silver fire burn up a beach-themed float for the parade. Again, pedestrians were screaming, and the sounds of anguish interspersed with despair were starting to get to him. Abandoning his search for Blade, he ran toward the cinders, hoping to catch sight of the source of the blaze. What he found was a vampire he could not stop crossing paths with, and a wild-eyed woman from Brazil trying to kill each other. As he lifted his blunderbuss to align the iron sights with his target, he didn't hesitate to make his decision. Perhaps that was the scariest thing of all.

Aisha smirked, knowing before he'd extracted the pistol who he'd aim for. Amara cursed loudly, dodging as best as she could, but the shell grazed her thigh and the damage was severe. Even though they were constantly on the move, and zipping through crowds of screaming civilians, Aisha could easily track her prey by the drops of blood on the concrete. While not exactly fatal, the wound was both slowing Amara down, and impossible to restrain with a simple binding, not that Aisha would give her time to mend it. She'd have to think about it more later, but if the man she'd ran into more and more lately had aimed that shot in her direction, she'd be nothing more than a pile of ash. That was a serious thing. It took another twenty minutes before Aisha had Amara prostrating before her, surrendering in the middle of the interstate, which was absolutely empty.

"Who the fuck are you?" Aisha demanded.

"Give it up Blade, my team is on their way now, and then you're through." Panther shouted swiping for Blade's head. The sharp claws on the gauntlets slashed through the air, but met with nothing. Blade's counter was so fluid that Panther almost didn't have enough time to defend himself. Blade's sword struck the metal on his arms hard, jarring his hands within. With Panther's guard now open, Blade launched into a spinning kick, which pounded Panther's chest and knocked him off his feet.

"I won't show you any mercy, nor will I spare those who come after you." Blade scowled, reaching into his coat and launching a silver stake at his downed foe. The metal sparked as soon as it hit the asphalt, barely missing. He could never forgive a person who could cruelly murder someone like Squeaks. Even though they shared no personal bond, the affront to him was severe enough to warrant violence. Blade found nothing at all wrong with this logic, and due to it, became increasingly angrier as the fight wore on. He didn't realize it, but his vampire traits were slowly becoming apparent.

"Are you fucking crazy? We both share a common goal! We both hunt vampires!" His voice was escalating with an unknown emotion. Panther would never admit it, but the look Blade now had in his glowing eyes was downright terrifying, and they weren't their normal color either. True to his word, he dashed forward, sword drawn to kill. This wasn't a man anymore. This was a monster.

Blade struck quickly, stabbing the air between his opponent's arm and his chest. He yanked the blade to the right, but Panther chanced a lucky backflip, and avoided being sawed in two. Panther tried futilely to land a blow with his primary weapons, but had no chance of succeeding. Panther didn't know why, but Blade's speed was increasing as time passed, and it appeared that the more sweat he worked up, the stronger both the day-walker's limbs and heart became. After fifteen more minutes of failing to strike him, Panther found himself in a panic. He was purely on the defensive and praying each and every second for the arrival of any of his teammates. If this kept up, his legacy would be over. He'd die right there in an underground parking garage for the Hilton hotel, forever lost as a ghost of the past.

"Requesting weapon change, axe." Oberon spoke into his onboard computer. He only had an hour left to use the nanosuit at maximum power, which was the only way to fully utilize it. He heard Syfy's confirmation, and at once his left hand morphed from a red and white metal into a medieval axe, and Oberon's body adjusted to the weight of the weapon. While any human that wasn't an Olympic bodybuilder would need two hands just to get it off the ground, Oberon dual-wielded them, carving up two vampires that were fleeing away from him. He cleaved behind him, easily decapitating a vampire that thought she had the best of him by sneaking up on him. Oberon smirked. The suit was more powerful and adaptable than he'd given it credit for.

The suit floated centimeters off the ground using a combination of jet fuel, pressurized steam and a vacuum of special molecules designed to repel those of any surface beneath it. The result was a seven-foot tall machine that essentially skated through the streets with perfect balance, and the visual output had perfect distinction between human and vampire. Oberon had never been outside of the lab with the suit, but found it abnormally easy to control. With mere thoughts, he could transition from shooting dozens of rounds through the streets to changing gravity so that he was skating along the side of buildings at an even faster acceleration. The suit was made with such finesse that the buildings remained undamaged despite the fuel being burned and ejected through Oberon's feet. If he wanted to, he could jump directly onto a car and though the suit weighed well over 500 pounds, he wouldn't leave a blemish on the vehicle at all.

A sharp turn led him past a black panther, three ambulances, and a fast-food court. With a thought, he picked up Blade's location, and sped into a parking garage, descending each level, his eyes scanning every direction at once. Oberon's HUD flashed green, confirming with 100% accuracy that Blade was only a few floors beneath him. The sensor also picked up a human, which Oberon would protect with everything within him. Blade had caused too much damage, not only to SPECS as an organization, but also to the globe. He didn't even have to check the body count on today's foolish transgression to confirm his beliefs. No matter what, he'd take Blade down, even if he had to go out in a bang.

Blade saw it coming, but couldn't do anything. When the handle of a humongous axe smashed into his stomach, he went flying, slamming painfully against a wall of concrete. The attack ripped open fresh contusions on both of his arms. Hacking as his arms trembled violently, Blade attempted to stand, finding it much more troublesome than mere seconds ago.

"I'll handle this, go!" The man inside the suit instructed, lifting Panther with his unarmed hand and jettisoning him to a safe zone well outside of Blade's reach. While certainly dumbfounded, Panther motioned for his arriving teammates to fall back. For now, it wasn't his battle, and he didn't want anything to do with the equivalent of a small gundam.

A sharp beeping and word from Syfy confirmed the nanosuit's battery was less than twenty percent. Oberon pulled up a clock in his right peripheral vision and was dismayed to see how much time the suit had left in operation. With Syfy egging him on, he converted his hands into an assault rifle, and blasted in Blade's direction, spraying shells everywhere.

It was too much for him. He darted behind a solid concrete pillar to avoid further damage, but his chest had two bullet holes in them. Blade peered around a corner and then dashed to find cover behind a Toyota as a grenade exploded, the blast radius still wide enough to shatter the glass in the green vehicle, lighting its plush interior ablaze. Try as he might to outmaneuver the man, Blade couldn't, and even worse so, the suit could change its molecular properties, converting the arms into different, adaptable tools of destruction. Blade thought about trying to short circuit the suit, which he knew had to run on massive amounts of either electricity or gasoline, but when his hands found his tesla-stakes, they didn't have any power. The suit was drawing electricity into itself at a massive rate, and since he wasn't driving, Blade couldn't fire an EMP wave at it. Even if he did have a capable vehicle with him, he'd bet his last dollar that the battery would be drained before he even got near the machine.

Trapped as he was in the space of the lot, Blade wasn't merely fleeing for the hell of it. Since he'd expended the last of his ammo trying to find a weak spot in the all-encompassing armor, he was trying to think of a new tactic. The first one clearly didn't work. Shooting in the same place never revealed any damage, and the machine never slowed down.

He tried melee combat, but was overwhelmed every time. His biceps were already hot, having the constant strain of blocking humongous weapons with such a small one. Blade could never get its back, but he did notice that the legs of the suit were particularly weak, seeing as how the man inside hadn't tried to kick at all. Blade set up a plan in his mind, already calculating the timing of his footsteps.

"Run while you can Blade, but you know this is your end." Oberon spoke, scanning the area. Blade's signal had gone muddy with the loss of battery, so he had to rely on sight alone. After only a few moments, he spotted the vampire attempting to flee from the way that he'd entered back above to the next floor. "I don't think so." Oberon jeered, pushing the machine to chase him. Both of his hands became four bulky metal tendrils and each of them shot at Blade's body like cobras striking their prey at lightning speed. Each of them connected, their sharp points stabbing with excellent precision, but there was no blood. Oberon was confused.

Blade laughed, launching his foot into a sedan as soon as the ultraviolet flash grenade beneath it detonated, sending the car directly into the suit's legs, making it trip, fly through the air, and finally land on the concrete with an ear piercing screech as it scraped against the cold floor, finally breaking through glass at the main office where parking tickets were purchased. Blade hadn't stopped moving, once he reached the fallen suit, he stabbed Oberon directly in his back, and though he couldn't see any physical damage, Blade knew he was affecting the person inside. Sweat seeped from his pores at an alarming rate, but Blade knew that he was almost finished.

"My power is draining, what do I do?" Oberon yelled at the computer, hoping to hear a response from Syfy but getting nothing. The HUD was now red, and warning signs dominated his vision. Suddenly, Oberon's muscles were pulled taut, the blood in his body straining to move. His mind felt as if small scalpels were slicing into it, violating his psyche and making him want to vomit. He closed his eyes and was rewarded with a wave of nausea and fresh fear. He passed out before his body could take any more pain.

"So you only have a week left before this gladiator championship begins no?" Amara asked, straightening her hair with a comb made from animal bones. "I still don't think you're ready for this world. You may be fit, but you're not good enough. Not yet." Amara finished, staring into Aisha's eyes for moments longer than were necessary.

"Isn't that what you're for? And this armband?" Aisha laughed kicking back on the purple couch. Having completed her portion of Blade's mission, which was to distract Syfy, she'd left the square a while ago, finding Amara to be more than just an interesting woman hell-bent on retrieving a family heirloom.

"Just because you proved that you could wear it doesn't mean that it will adjust to you kindly." Amara admonished. They were in a sports lounge halfheartedly watching a few wrestling matches on flat screens while guys around them flirted and ceiling fans hummed to try to alleviate the general heat. The air was stained with smoke and booze, but neither of them seemed to mind much.

"Seems to be acclimating just fine." Aisha challenged, resting her head on her hands, which were propped up on the table by her elbows. Her gesture was slightly flirtatious, though she didn't know why. Amara was very good company, and it had been awhile since Aisha had seen someone with such resolve, and a rich background that they were willing to share.

"I suppose you're up for training immediately at sunrise tomorrow then? Don't be late." Amara countered, giving Aisha her sculpted naked back to consider as she left.

1Flame of Hell (i.e. Hellfire)


	10. Chapter 9: Broken Relaxation

**Chapter Nine**

Tiffany stifled a yawn and flicked through the channels without caring much. She was honestly tired of going out and drinking, having to periodically check in to report to Vladimir the details about the week. She crossed her legs and relaxed into the black couch, letting the massive plasma screen play infomercial after infomercial. If she didn't find something fun to do soon, she'd probably die where she sat. Maybe she needed more sex. As her thoughts escaped her and shot to memories of Onyx's buff naked body, the television changed on its own, revealing a newscast in Times Square.

"So that's where you've been," she mused, while massive chaos and fires broke out on the television, the sound system so expensive that the screaming people appeared to be running right on either side of her. She watched a propane truck explode and several vampires go to ash before her eyes. Her eyes glittered with mischief when she observed the police force moving in, doing perhaps too good of a job with mopping up vampires that were there solely for Blade. She tried scanning for either he or Onyx in the massive crowds, but neither of them came on screen. Instead, though only for a moment, the reporter touched on the giant mech that had zoomed down the streets, doing an impressive job of eradicating creatures of the night. This meant that SPECS was getting more and more advanced in the technology department, but it was also perfect for Vladimir's plan. When SPECS attained enough military strength, the foundation would be pulled straight from beneath them, and Anubis would rise to take control of the entire Nexus in Vladimir's stead.

Tiffany walked into the kitchen to blend herself a peaches and cream smoothie, which she absolutely loved even more than alcohol. Her emerald eyes lit with pleasure as she downed a towering glass of the beautiful concoction, returning to the couch in the process. When she sat down, a tall, Indian man began rattling off the details of a new battle which took place at several different locations, mysterious power outages striking the city. When she heard that not only chargeable lights, but also battery powered devices were refusing to work, Tiffany knew it must be Salazar's doing. His control over darkness could easily put the entire city into a blackout if he wished, but he must have been concentrating on one of his targets. She flipped back her short red hair, which she'd recently dyed herself. She really needed a hobby. At this point, even going to hang out with Aisha and potentially Lucia wasn't beneath her. It could be fun, a vampire girls night out of sorts. Tiffany then realized that it would only lead straight back to alcohol, and she was already tired of drinking so much. She grumbled, trudging through the carpet barefoot to the recliner chair that cradled her figure like a mother. Once relaxed in the warm embrace, she nodded off to sleep, dreaming of a life where there were no chains of command and no vampires.

"You're old." Kyle spoke to no one in particular. Even though he'd disarmed Salazar, the vampire was blocking Kyle's sword with only the palm of his hand. He was swinging with all his might, but was also being parried far too easily. At the moment, the vampire wasn't even bothering trying to counter; he was going to let Kyle wear himself out. Kyle knew he'd have to change tactics. No sooner than the thought entered his brain, the vampire's face ceased suppressing a condescending grin.

"You are but a mere child. Your death was assured the moment I entered your store." Salazar finished on an eerie cackle, vanishing from view, then lifting Kyle into the air by his neck. Wind whooshed around the ninja, then left his body as Salazar broke a bus stop bench with a fearsome choke slam. Before he could move, Salazar picked him up again, launching him so forcefully that the protective glass around the bench shattered, sending the ninja sprawling a ways down the road. Salazar's cocky smirk returned. He didn't need his sickle to finish the pathetic human.

Kyle's orange eyes opened, but couldn't take in anything. Again, nothing but complete darkness surrounded him, and aside from the asphalt, he couldn't tell where anything was. This time, the vampire wasn't making sound to aid him, the very air he breathed seemed suffocating, causing both paranoia and claustrophobia to magically affect him. Anyone else would be disappointed from having their best advantage in a fight taken from them, but Kyle's training had amply prepared him for this. He'd have to adapt, and he had just the technique to do so.

"Very nice!" Salazar nodded with appreciation. Kyle's elbow slammed into Salazar's palm, mere inches away from crushing his jawbone. Salazar resumed the fight with a sneaky counter. He pushed Kyle forward, and then turned his fingers into razor-sharp claws, flying forward at light speed to pierce the man's heart through his back. Victory was assured. It was a good run for the ninja, but even track stars lost their luster when a vital organ was in peril.

A blinding white light obliterated Salazar's vision, which was a first. He scratched desperately through the air, unsatisfied when flesh didn't meet his claws. The blinding sensation sent him into a small panic, because his darkness technique wasn't working as quickly as he'd liked. This light refused to be so easily consumed.

"Secret Technique, Seven Swords." Salazar fled backward to avoid whatever Kyle had in store for him, but it didn't do any good at all. When his feet touched the pavement again, a gigantic laceration opened from his left shoulder down to his knee, shooting blood from his body. He threw darkness in Kyle's direction, hoping to stop the pain. His shaggy ink-black hair shook wildly and he screamed as the second, third, and fourth lacerations opened his skin so deeply that he couldn't stand it.

He held up his hands to block the rest, but the fifth and sixth strikes ripped through his arms, exposing the gaping lines of blood in his chest again. The last strike ripped through his sternum, cracking it and three supporting ribs. Salazar spun around in a circle, struggling to stand on crippled limbs. He hadn't lost the steely look in his eye though. Salazar took note when Kyle initiated the technique again, but was helpless to stop it, no matter what he tried. Seven more lacerations slashed into him with overwhelming intensity each growing in fortitude. Salazar's thick animal skin coat fell from his shoulders revealing simple hakama pants fastened to his waist by a red silk sash. Salazar's bare chest was coated on every inch by freshly colored tattoos. Kyle wasn't worried about them at all, but when Salazar pulled another Reese Weiland out of the darkness before him, Kyle got the feeling that any chance of escaping the fight was now over. Salazar wouldn't stop until his blood lined the streets and his heart had stopped beating. But that was fine with him. Kyle bit down on the tip of his tongue until a small stream of blood filled his mouth. His eyes glowed with an even brighter luminescence, and his muscles bulged. His vision also pierced the darkness and locked onto the vampire, who appraised the transformation silently. It was on.

Lucia took another crazy swig of her red berry Ciroc. It was a concoction she'd amended with her own flavor, just to be fancy. She only drank it when she wanted her blood to boil, and it was having that effect now, spreading hot threads of alcoholic warmth from the center of her chest throughout her body. After a satisfied gasp, she stood to her feet. It was no surprise to her that the halter topped assassin entered moments later, grinning wildly. She popped a wad of pink bubble gum, and resumed chewing as if she hadn't eradicated twenty of Lucia's men on her way there.

"Shura." Lucia whispered, pulling some black hair from out of her eyes, which were pulsing scarlet. The assassin nodded, placing a hand on her hip. She wore a pair of tight-fitting leggings that were torn short on her left leg and stretched long on her right. Shura's hands were sheathed in fingerless gloves, whose midnight sheen matched the coating on her fingernails. Her top was black as well, with two ridiculous collars forming a large V which made no effort at all to hide her cream-colored breasts. Her defining features other than the thin chastity belt at her waist were the pilot's cap she wore on her head and the long tail that came from her backside, resembling a hissing copperhead. While two spiky pigtails erupted from either side of her head, it was impossible to miss the many scars covering her bare belly, marring her otherwise beautiful skin. Shura was somewhat of a funny one though, for the key to the belt she wore around her waist hung around her neck, dangling only slightly above the line of sexy cleavage she had no shame in displaying.

"You done the appraisal, you rich piece of filth?" Shura asked, pulling out a curved knife from her back pocket. When she unsheathed it from an amethyst encrusted scabbard, the short weapon gleamed in the light, still coated with wet blood. Shura's tail made an echoing hissing noise, then began staring at Lucia as well.

"I would suspect that it was a mistake requesting your services two years ago." Lucia declared with authority. She was dressed down in a tan semi-formal outfit, for once opting out of wearing a dress. Nevertheless, her point carried across, even though Shura's laugh was the only response it warranted.

"What can I say, I go where the most money is. Now shut up and die." Shura sprang forward with the knife gripped tightly in her left hand. She never reached Lucia though, because the floor instantly opened up beneath her, sending her spiraling down three levels into a room below. She was able to break her fall though, making sure to land upright, less Lucia spring up to attack while she was vulnerable.

"Perhaps you should be careful who you take contracts against, because you'll never be able to assassinate me."

Shura searched around for the voice, noting that the new flooring had become a monotonous gray concrete. Four different vampires surrounded her, each dressed the exact same brown outfit, speaking in perfect harmony with the others.

"I know about your illusions, you crazy bitch. Good luck hurting me with these!" Shura yelled, scanning for the real Lucia. She had to be somewhere, projecting clones of herself to confuse her. Shura would soon be disappointed, her arrogance draining away in the dirt.

"Your judgment is flawed." A Lucia lookalike ostracized her, knocking her away with a back slap so hard that it almost broke her neck. Shura spun her body midair, piercing one of the Lucias behind her directly in the heart, nothing happened. The two tumbled to the ground, but Shura managed to take the dominant position. The clone simply dematerialized.

Shura rocketed into a quick flip, evading three deadly javelins that stabbed through the concrete behind her. Several strands of her hair tore from the roots. The pain was quick and sharp, but it made her furious. She shouted her frustration, and the room went black, whooshing winds erupting from nowhere. Within three minutes, she was freezing cold.

"Dig, bitch." Lucia cocked the hammer back on a long barreled Smith and Wesson Schofield revolver. She rammed it in the back of Shura's head and commanded her again. An evil grin spread across her face as she observed her opponent's entire body flinch, and then tremble with trepidation.

Shura couldn't speak. The back of her throat had gone desert dry, and she couldn't feel her tongue. Her first reaction was to turn around and attack, but whenever the thought entered her mind, a feeling akin to being smacked by a bullwhip would slash the back of her legs, putting her in danger of falling. The assassin hadn't realized the shovel in her hand until she used her bare and bleeding foot to plunge it into the earth. The rusted metal was unforgiving, tearing open her foot with each new pile of dirt she moved to the side. Shura started crying and was unaware of it. As the smoky mist around her dissolved, a cemetery unfolded before her. Whose body was Lucia forcing her to dig up?

"Now jump in." Lucia's voice was so calm it was fearsome. Against her will, Shura flung herself into the six foot deep hole, realizing only at the last moment, while falling midair, that a headstone engraved with her name loomed over her recent creation. While gazing up in horror, still unable to move, Shura watched Lucia drop a beautiful white lily into her grave, and then choked on over ten liters of soil.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Shura screamed, banging her head against the back of her chair. Her hands were chained down, and mounted television screens surrounded her, flashing on and off only allowing her to view a blizzard of static from every direction. Her legs, tied together, struggled futilely against the tight leather straps that restrained her. She had been this way for hours now, listening to Lucia's voice resound inside her skull. Each chant grated her eardrums and made her sick.

"Do it. Do it."

Lucia kicked the chair over from the back, and Shura fell helplessly to the floor, her forehead now bruised by the hard dirty tile below. She then picked Shura back up, her thick heels clattering against the tiles creating an additional symphony for Shura's ears.

"Do it. Do it." Lucia kicked over Shura's chair again. This time, a sharp piece of glass lodged itself in her cheek, producing a scarlet gash that was frighteningly deep. Since she was human, Shura's blood flowed brilliantly scarlet against her face, pooling at the floor. Lucia had known control over the blood thirst for years, and wasn't tempted. She hoisted up Shura's chair again, and she shook her head wildly, blinded by the flashing screens, growing more insane by the second. After five more times of violently knocking Shura's helpless body over, Lucia unbound her left hand, which had to recirculate blood into it. The blaring red ring created by Lucia's binding puffed up, and Shura started to hyperventilate, flexing her hand over and over again to regain some kind of feeling within it.

"Should I remove your fingers for you?" Lucia asked sweetly, stabbing a thick knife into the arm of Shura's chair. Moments before, Shura had moved it, but she was scared to death nonetheless. Unable to work her mouth correctly, she shook her head over and over again, her black hair disheveled and messy. A new wave of tears burned her cheeks with a salty trail of regret. What the hell had she gotten herself into?

Lucia plucked the knife from the arm of the chair easily, then sat it on Shura's lap. She floated through the air in a perfect circle, landing behind the frightened girl. Shura's fingers tested the knife's weight and soon it became all too clear for her. This was hers.

The screens boomed each time they turned back on, drowning out Shura's hearing. The room was too dark to find anything else to look at, throwing her brain into a sensory panic. Aside from her left hand, she couldn't feel anything, even the cuts and bruises along her face and arms didn't produce any sensation.

"Do it." Lucia spoke one final time, before Shura lodged her weapon into her own throat.

In real world time, it took a whopping twenty-three minutes for Lucia to successfully drive Shura away, but she'd also learned a few things. Shura had an innate ability to heal herself, and that in itself was a direct link to the person who'd hired her. Genetic mutations definitely weren't common in an age of vampires, and some serious cash would have to be thrown in the right direction for a mutation of that magnitude. Lucia didn't know who it was, but someone of the upper class definitely had it out for her. She knew that Shura would return to attempt to fulfill her contract one day, with or without help, yet wasn't worried at all. She walked through her outdoor garden, bending over to luxuriate in the scent of fresh magnolias, which were very rare in the Nexus. Lucia was probably the only one who owned and appreciated them. She sighed when she realized that she'd have to hire better help, because her manor had been infiltrated, her guards slain and again merely a single perpetrator had completed the task.

She stumbled into a thorny bush, and laughed even when she hit the ground hard. The alcohol had its claws in her deep, but she refused to stop being merry. When she looked up, the stars in the sky were alight with a brilliance she had never seen before. Even though the moon was nowhere to be found, she smiled, in spite of the fact that the cosmos were spinning above her, and the beginnings of a pounding headache were beginning to manifest.

"I hope you're ready Aisha." Lucia spoke softly to the stars. A sincere kindness stretched from her form to wherever the katana wielding woman was. Lucia's face grew warm, and she couldn't help but remember taking care of her for a few hours after the fiasco with Minerva mentioning Akane. Lucia was wondering how much information about Aisha's mother she'd actually give up, but her head soon pounded louder than her thoughts could.

"I wish I had kickass insurance like you man." The doctor laughed, and Blade shook his head. The air inside the hospital was musty, and the fluorescent lights above made him feel as if he were in a laboratory. He flexed his chest muscles, and wasn't shocked to feel them still throbbing with the weight of their injuries. Having two bullets extracted was a small hell, but he also had patches on his arms from the bloody bruises there, and several bandages going down the length of his back. Blade looked a couple beds away to see a white man singing along with a church choir on the small television in the corner of the room. His leg was held up in a sling, but his face was boyish, yet radiant. He was entirely engulfed in the television, clapping along as well.

"Who's that nutcase?" Blade asked, just before a nurse slid a curtain in between them, blocking the man from Blade's view. The incessant singing act continued however, gloriously mediocre. The doctor responded kindly.

"Daniel Rosewood, cop, spiral leg fracture. Ah, you have a visitor, I'll return shortly with some antibiotics." The doctor moved aside so that Onyx could replace him, taking a seat in one of the uncomfortable chairs next to the hospital bed Blade laid in. He dapped Blade up the first opportunity he had.

"Glad to see you didn't need a call to come." Blade joked, ending on an uncomfortable cough. While silver bullets surely wouldn't kill him, Blade had the feeling that he was being constricted in more ways than just chest pains. It felt like an otherworldly force was both limiting him and slowing his body down. Untraceable pains made it so that he couldn't unleash his body's full potential. Knowing that alone made Blade a little anxious.

"How long they say you're in for? Shit was crazy out there man." Onyx's face filled with animation as the recent memories filled him. Blade made sure to turn away as certain paternal instincts overcame him. Onyx's well-being shouldn't concern him. He was not the man's father. They were only partners, nothing more.

"They say two weeks with proper rest, but more than likely I'll be out by tomorrow." Blade winked slyly and Onyx laughed. The mirth vanished soon after though, and Onyx looked down into his lap, for some reason tugging at his baggy jeans. He pulled out a brush and adjusted the waves in his hair accordingly, though it was only to distract himself. Blade read him in an instant. Onyx was nervous.

"Come on man, how long have I been your mentor? What do you want to say?" Blade remained focused on James, who grew a little more apprehensive. He cursed under his breath as the man a few beds down tried to hold a high note that Mariah Carey would have done with ease. He wasn't Mariah Carey. The result was a terrible wail. Blade was starting to hate the man and his repulsive singing, but that wasn't his pressing concern. Something told him that Onyx had something important to relay to him.

"Well...Tiffany," Onyx began, somehow still managing to look bashful, even as a grown man.

"Ain't what you thought she was?" Blade finished for him, taking Onyx aback. He tried to defend himself with a cover-up, but Blade shut him down. "There's someone else huh?" Blade asked, needing no answer from Onyx to confirm it. His demeanor may have been stoic and serious, but it was easy to see the truth in his deep brown eyes. Whether he wanted to or not, James uttered his agreement. Blade's assessment was dead on the mark.

"I'm just not trying to commit right now, ya feel me? I may not be the youngest guy, but I've still got a life to live, women to sample, places to be, you know right?" Blade listened to his every word. It made him think back years ago, to the love interests he'd fostered throughout his time as a vampire hunter. What had started as a life of revenge against Deacon Frost had certainly developed more and more depth, and that depth added to his story had produced an interesting amount of side stories. There were quite a few relationships that always came to his mind, and he could perfectly understand what Onyx was feeling. Though in his case, death always followed love; there wasn't a passion in existence that had survived the intense gavel the morning sun brought down upon it. As a day-walker, it was far too dangerous to attempt to share his blood with anyone, let alone a female. Thus, when the sun burned everything to ash, he was always the only one left standing. Blade felt words spill out of his lips before he could stop them.

"Look Onyx. There will come a day when your needs transcend sex. Someday it'll become less about the booty and more about the beauty, more about the inside and less on the outside. I sure as hell ain't sayin' to stop playing the field to find the person you want to settle down with, but be mindful that when looking, not everyone will be there for you as a person, no matter how good you lay it down."

Onyx nodded his head, shocked beyond words at what Blade was saying. He'd always viewed his mentor as a smooth operator that could have panties dropping with the snap of a finger. What he was hearing now almost sounded like, well, like love.

"What's it like?" Onyx inquired, leaning forward. He'd taken off his heavy jacket and now wore a short sleeve Polo shirt embossed with an image of Tupac. When Blade looked at him bewildered, he clarified. "Finding the woman worth settling down with. What's it like?" Blade opened his mouth to speak, when the television nearest him flashed to the news, which showed a massive power outage in 40 percent of the Nexus. There were several blurry and awkward camera angles before he saw it.

On the television, a street camera had captured an accident in real time, which was rare. Across the board, there were reported failings of Trak-Automatic, and maintenance vehicles were being dispatched everywhere. That wasn't relevant though. What drew Blade's concern on the television was a brief flash of white light. Two figures shone, one that he knew without a doubt was Kyle the weapon smith. Across from him was a seasoned vampire, and Blade knew that he had to be the culprit behind Squeaks's murder, not Vici. Someone was purposely targeting those with a connection to him. Someone had leaked Blade's personal information, and was trying to draw him out of hiding. He'd give them just that. Without a word, he sprang out of bed, grabbed his trench-coat and retrieved his weapons from a footlocker on the lowest level of the hospital. Nobody's cries behind him could stop him from getting to that fight.

When Blade arrived on the scene it was too late. As he sprinted toward the flickering lights, he watched Kyle battle a huge, Chinese vampire tooth and nail, but the end was nigh. As weapons clashed and teeth gnashed, Blade could see Kyle's fatigue slowing him down. While not enough to significantly hinder him, he wouldn't be able to defeat the vampire he faced in mortal combat.

"Secret Technique: Manji Blood Dance!" Kyle's wooden sword metamorphosed into one of the longest broadswords that Blade had ever seen. Kyle stabbed the glowing weapon through his own stomach, impaling the vampire behind him so maliciously that both of his foes weapons dropped to the ground, while the vampire struggled to move. Kyle lurched, with each gyration, he cut further into the vampire's innards, tearing through the vampire's skin at a personal price. Not only was the enormous wound in Kyle's stomach enough to kill him, he was coughing up blood as well, voice growing hoarser after each exertion.

Salazar screamed as the cutting continued. He already knew that the massive wound in his stomach would never heal, but he'd had no idea that the ninja's wooden sword was half as capable a weapon as one of his darkness sickles. He'd avoided silver ninja stars, crystallized silver meant to blind him, and a hidden arm blade, but could do nothing about the huge sword now sticking through his entire body. Through painstaking screams, his fangs grew larger. If he was too close to rip this man's head from his shoulders, then he'd drain his blood to reenergize.

"It's about damn time you showed up." Kyle spoke, his voice so strained by anguish that it was hard to make out his words. He gave Blade a nod of appreciation. "Scatter my ashes to the four winds alright?" He coughed again and an ungodly amount of blood and bile splattered onto the pavement. Kyle jerked, and Salazar screeched again, momentarily paralyzed. Blade came within reach, but Salazar's mouth went toward Kyle's throat instead. Kyle sensed this, and tore the magnificent blade through his body in a zigzag, falling forward and hitting the ground in death. Blade didn't know how, but his attire had changed from the newscast he'd observed in the hospital. Kyle was now wearing a pure white robe, with matching hakama pants. Blood stained the white, but Kyle's face was peaceful, even as the last wisps of life exited his frame. Meanwhile, Salazar tore the offending weapon away, and launched it far away, licking his lips as he spotted Blade.

"Finally I've found you day-walker." As Salazar stood to his full height once again, all of the lights around them came on, illuminating the street as brightly as a football stadium. "My name is Salazar, and I'm only here to collect something of mine that you have in your possession. They call it Defender." The vampire swept into a deep bow, glittering eyes never moving away from him.

"What the fuck would you need a shield for?" Blade cursed darkly. His eyes darted between Kyle's lifeless body and the tall vampire opposite him with a gaping hole in its stomach. As he did so, anger injected itself into his bloodstream, making his fists shake as he extracted his namesake weapon from its sheath on his back.

"You don't need to know that, nor do you need to know who sent me, but I will share with you this." Salazar tilted his head back, letting his coarse black hair fall away, revealing a fresh scar that went down his right cheek. He waved his hand, and a new sickle filled it. He turned the knife up and dashed at Kyle's corpse, ready to put a hole in the back of his head.

"Don't touch him!" Blade's eyes changed color, and he zoomed to intercept the vampire, battering him away with hate filled slashes. Two people were dead because of their desire to help him, and though the same situation had happened countless times before, there was never something as disrespectful as placing holes in the skulls of the deceased being done. Blade's anger consumed him, and so did his inner vampire. "I will fucking murder you where you stand!" He boomed, charging forward.

Salazar annihilated Blade's vision, but he kept coming. He would shield himself with thick bars of darkness, but Blade's infernal weapon would smash through them. The few times he had an opening, Salazar couldn't attack without sacrificing himself in the process. Blade's strikes were all lethal, and his wide, sweeping motions were fluid and coalesced into one another. No motion was without purpose, and his balance was critically perfect. Salazar was dancing the dance of death with Blade, but could only match him. Blade exceeded his abilities in every parameter.

"From where do you draw your tenacity?" Salazar asked him, quickly evading a slash that would have robbed him of a leg. He was forced to move again, because Blade had struck again for his chest without a lapse in time. The cut sliced open Salazar's collarbone, but it was a thin wound. The lights around them went out one by one, but a horrid realization opened Salazar's eyes as wide as dinner plates. Blade was injured, and not only that, he'd been fighting in an injured state this entire time. The epiphany made him recalculate the difference in their skills, and made him reevaluate his entire strategy. Minerva had told him to reclaim Defender and to take Kyle's life, while Tiffany had told him to destroy Blade's lines of outside help. He could please them both without Defender, at the moment it was all about self-preservation. Knowing when to flee was a crucial part of survival instinct.

Salazar turned tail and was going to run away, when he saw the opening he wasn't expecting. One of Blade's lunges turned into a nasty spill when he tripped over a bar of solid darkness. He crashed into the ground, and on his recovery, Salazar turned around and struck. It was his lucky night.

Blade had been waiting for this. His enemy was so deep in the shadows that he couldn't see the chi radiating off of his body. Before Salazar could adjust his decision to attack, he was dead.

Salazar cleaved right through Blade's neck, but there was no blood, no sense of achievement, and no cry of despair. Instead, a brilliant white light divided his body into two equal pieces, and then he split apart, flames licking up his skin. As he died, Salazar couldn't help but think of how powerful Blade would be if he hadn't just come from a medical facility. At least he didn't have to worry about Vladimir's wrath.

"Deadly Sword Technique, Residual Moon." Blade whispered, the blue flames returning to the inside of his body. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number of someone he trusted. His eyes returned to their normal color, and straining, he limped over to Kyle's body but didn't disturb him. He still appeared incredibly at ease, and his massive injury was hidden beneath his robe. Tranquil was to be the best was Blade could describe him. After a feat like that, Blade was sure that Kyle had to be in a better place. True to his final words, Blade would burn his body and scatter his ashes, even if he had to climb a mountain in the Himalayas to do it.

Another butler with a steady hand held up the phone to her ear. She'd gone through seven more since Jason, and hadn't batted an eye at any of their deaths. Down the hall, Shura was being lashed for her failure, even though she would still have to work for her. Minerva's contracts were always binding for life, and no matter how much money it took, it remained true no matter who the clientele was. You either worked until you completed your mission, died in the process, or fled for your life. The final option being the least wise of them all.

"So my statements for Kyle?" Minerva chimed.

"His accounts have been drained and added to yours. There is the question of the shop he owned though. Were you interested in archaic weaponry?" This agent was much more confident, and thus intrigued her. At the very least, she wouldn't have him fired.

"I have no interest in such things. Burn the place for all I care. And I _do care._" Minerva added pointedly, to which Henry assented. There were no hidden implications. She wanted the place razed.

"There will be nothing left to remember him by." Henry stated monotonously, receiving a dismissal from Minerva.

The vampire smacked her butler across the jaw, sending him flying into a wall. It was true that he was hurt, but he was far from dying. Frustration was making adrenaline course through her. She needed to get rid of her competition in the gladiator's tournament. Lucia had to die. She crossed the room to a small writer's desk, and pressed a button, which prompted a secretary to ask her wish. "End her castigation, and bring Shura directly to me. I would like to speak with her face to face." The secretary answered politely, though she didn't have a choice. If Shura didn't straighten up, then soon she wouldn't be alive to even consider the possibility of getting rich as an assassin.

"Project Kappa Psi Lambda Epsilon has been terminated." The worker looked up at a larger series of monitors that took up an entire wall, observing a red dot appearing in the northeastern US. "Killed in action." He continued, adjusting his glasses. Behind him, Yuki Naga grumbled, which was not a good sign. As the CEO of SPECS International, he was a short, silent Japanese man with a commanding posture. When he spoke, things happened, some terrible, some life-changing. Rob hated to be the one to break the news to him, but who else would have done it?

"Do we have any other genetic experiments in the area? I believe there was a Tau experiment in the area with a reasonable amount of skill." Immediately after speaking, the room silenced, and 200 sets of fingers began blasting away at keyboards. Nevertheless, since he had started the conversation, unless Yuki initiated, no one else but Rob was allowed to speak.

"There is Tau Rho Iota Gamma Gamma Epsilon Rho," Rob began, when Yuki viciously explained to him that there was no need to maintain the Greek experiment names. Rob coughed again, adjusting his button up shirt. Even though the air conditioning kept the building constantly chilled, he was burning up, sweating a mile a minute. "Trigger sir. The marksman whose DNA is infused with reaction time and sight enhancing agents. He is within the same city Kyle was terminated in to be exact." Yuki nodded at this, watching the conjoined map over the fifty monitor screens combine into one of the Nexus. While he couldn't pin down Trigger's exact location, he had a good idea of who he had to contact with to get such information.

"That is Syfy's district, is it not?" Yuki asked as if testing Rob's knowledge. There was no way in the world that Yuki wouldn't possess that data.

"It is Yuki kakka1." Rob addressed. "Should we activate him now?" Yuki's reply was a silent no.

"Let's keep an eye on the marksman for now. If we need him, we'll use him. Such a shame we lost Kyle though, he was trained in far more than manipulating fireballs. There must be another power at play in the Nexus if such a proficient experiment was targeted and destroyed successfully." He adjusted his tie, bowing at Rob in a muted adjournment.

"Mr. Nico Nerudamus from America is here to see you." Yuki's secretary patched in.

"Send him to the third floor conference room. Notify him of my pending presence to the meeting." Yuki began a fast walk toward the elevators. How coincidental it was that an insider from Syfy's branch in the Nexus had scheduled to meet with him today. All over nanomachines. Yuki smiled. The thought excited him. The future of SPECS was indeed about to change, if Nico had the correct configurations, then the vampire to human ratio on the planet could very well be tipped extremely far in their direction. In his direction.

He pulled out a PDA and scanned the list of experiments from 15 years ago. Trigger's name was the 50th on the list. A light bulb turned on in Yuki's head as soon as his face popped onto the screen. He tapped the amoled display twice with a stylus just to confirm what he remembered. Trigger had been the one experiment he was willing to elevate over the entire United States branches of SPECS. Born in El Paso, Texas, Trigger's military credentials made him overqualified for the position, however, his actions on the battlefield made Yuki deactivate, and in turn discharge him from the organization. Trigger had almost uncovered the experimental conspiracy that Yuki led, and thus, would have ruined everything. He had no choice but to discharge him with bullshit charges and redirect his anger by promoting Syfy over him. Yuki turned off the PDA. It was time to prepare for the meeting.

Mr. N sat down at a comfortable chair and waited. He chose a safe seat in the center of the enormous oval table, because it would have been foolish to assume he could sit at the seats at either end. He'd flown all the way to Japan just to see Yuki, and anything that might incur disrespect was nothing short of brainless. He opened his Acer laptop, setting a steel briefcase down on the floor. He'd have been lying if he said he wasn't a little nervous. Yuki was the head of every SPECS around the world, which made over 128 corporations, including the one he worked for at the Nexus. There were only two ways this meeting could go. Either he'd unleash a breakthrough important enough to grant him or his branch some respect and please Yuki, or the opposite, which he refused to think about.

Yuki entered, a tangible pressure expanding into the atmosphere as he did so. Two men blocked the door on both sides, one of them pulling out the executive's chair for him before returning to his post. At once, Yuki's coldly calculating eyes rested on him, prompting him to move without words. Nico stood and went into a deep bow. Yuki acknowledged him, and bid him to move along with the presentation.

Nico did a quick comb through his pointy silver hair, setting up the projector easily. At once, various blueprints, charts, and graphs opened, while he gestured with a precise laser pointer. "Observing the combat data I sent you beforehand revealed several key flaws in the current nanosuit, the version one if you will," Nico began, playing a short clip of Oberon's run in with Blade. "On the three prototypes I am presenting to you today, not only has the motion efficiency increased by 112% to correct these mistakes, the legs now have augmentations as well to prevent excess damage. Soon, as with the arms, they will also be able to freely change shape to adapt to any situation." Nico waited for a reply. Yuki appeared to be pleased.

"Well done. These improvements are stellar. I've observed some of the lab tests on the new models, and I must say the weaknesses were addressed properly." Yuki nodded, but didn't permit Nico to speak just yet. "What have you done about its massive power usage and uptime? Has your version one pilot recovered fully from the physical and mental damage of the confrontation with Blade? Lastly, how many years do the nanomachines shave off the average human life? I had heard of some gauntlets you made a few years back which shorten the lifespan by twenty years. Please tell me you've improved the host's life expectancy?" Yuki tapped the table impatiently with his fingers. Just like that, Nico had gone from confident to on edge, Yuki proving once again that he could effortlessly adjust the atmosphere and tweak the tension of any room.

"Ah, my failure of a project. I am almost happy it was stolen by that rogue. Rest be assured Mr. Naga, version one had decreased the lifespan shortage by five years, and we've incorporated the same technology into the three prototypes I am hoping you will use to the best of your ability." His apprehension was beginning to show, but he tried his best to keep his voice focused and upbeat. Nico would be verbally slaughtered if Yuki Naga stayed on the topic of his first nanomachine project, a pair of golden panther gauntlets that bonded with their host's DNA. In addition, the project was compromised, and the gauntlets stolen during the most crucial time of the Vampire Human War. Nico sent up a silent prayer that Yuki wouldn't dwell on his past mistakes.

"What about its energy consumption?" Yuki continued instead. Nico breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"That is our only challenge sir. We at SPECS Nexus were hoping for some additional funding, not only for our security, but for the improvement of these suits. As you saw on the news recently, what little footage was captured of Oberon, the suit is incredibly intelligent and adaptive, able to single out vampires while minimizing civilian casualties all on the fly. Of course, not to embellish ourselves Mr. Naga, that is why I want to present you with three of the latest models."

Yuki rose with a smile. "Request granted. Draw up the papers, transfer the models and let us catapult into a bright new future!" The men along the door sprinted into action, and Nico couldn't hide the shock on his face when Yuki walked directly up to him, and have him a genuine business hug, the likes of which never occurred before.

"Thank you so much!" Nico spoke, already on the phone to give Syfy the good news.

Blade ducked into Vizuela to find an average size house filled with laughter and music. He scanned the expansive bar on the first floor, but didn't see Joe, so he trudged up the wooden stairs that hugged the walls of the establishment as it vainly attempted to spiral into the sky. When he got to the top, he signaled the bulky Scotsman over.

"Let me just check your records to calculate your income." Joe boomed, wearing his trademark glistening smile. He reached out his arm to grasp Blade's in a warrior's handshake, and Blade extended it longer than normal.

"I'm not here for the income this time. I need some intel."

"On who?"

"Lucia Noblesse, do you know where she might be?" Blade inquired, taking a seat at one of the comfortable bar stools. Out of curiosity, he glanced at the top 50 list of bounty hunters. He wasn't too surprised, in fact the list remained mostly unchanged. In a dark, fancy font, his name had moved up from fifteen to twelve, two slots behind Aisha. Other than that, the only change was Vici, who had moved exceedingly further up the list in the past few weeks. As a team, they were rising in the ranks pretty fast, and were close to the top 20 for the district.

Joe was looking stunned and rooted to the spot behind the counter. He stared into the ceiling for a moment, as if the old fashioned fans would blow the answer into his head. After a few long seconds, the light bulb clicked, and he smirked at Blade. "About time you went for top game in the sack eh Blade? Hear she's a great woman but a heartbreaker afterward." Blade's jaw dropped.

"She has data that's crucial to my current mission Joe. Besides, the rich and conceited were my childish conquests. I've long since outgrown them." Blade spoke firmly, though he knew he was lying. If nothing else, vampire or not, he did feel an attraction to Lucia, but his sex life was hardly his reason for visiting Vizuela. In truth, he was looking for both Lucia and Vici, hoping he could kill two birds with one stone. He knew that their squad would be stopping in to see if his battle royale had rewarded them with any quarries, but they were nowhere in sight.

"Oh." Joe stammered, clearly disappointed. "She has a mansion up on Dogenzaka Hill in Westside. Getting there is pretty easy. Getting inside, is not." He continued, though not dissuading Blade at all. A tinkling glass made them turn their heads. A black man with a shaggy beard had climbed atop his table, startling those around him. He wasn't drunk, but was sloshing a cloudy alcohol onto his boots while he balanced precariously on the edge of his table. The man was fond of buckles that was for sure. Blade counted three on each boot and two crossing his abs in an X.

"Fuck it. Hear ye hear ye!" The man shouted, loud enough for everyone on the second floor to hear him. The band entitled Magberry stopped playing to stare in awe, which was a blessing for everyone's ears. "All drinks tonight are on me!" Patrons stared at each other wondering if this was some sort of hoax.

"Is he good for it Joe?" Someone in the back called.

"You damn right the barry lad is! He isna guttered, this ain't a joke!" Joe called back, and the entire establishment erupted in a loud cheer. Though his Scottish accent had slipped out, he wasn't embarrassed at all.

"Be right back." Blade spoke, making his way to the table where the patron saint of the bar for the night was taking his seat. Blade purposely dodged the other customers, and soon found himself being stared down. He took his seat without fear, and waved over a host.

"What's that you're drinking?" Blade hesitated long enough so that the man opposite him responded both to the spoken and unspoken questions.

"Keiji Igasho, and it's called Destiny." The man spoke crisply, adjusting his glasses that were as sharp as his piercing gaze. Blade ordered the same, intrigued by the misty graying contents inside.

"So what's your story? Why the sudden generosity?" Blade inquired. This prompted Keiji to laugh, forcing the unwelcome scent of alcohol into Blade's nostrils. Keiji pulled out a cigar ready for smoking, and lit it with a flick of a stylish lighter that had a wolf's head as the top. After a few puffs, he tapped some ashes into the convenient ashtray in the center of their table.

"Just drinking the night away my friend. What better company for misery to have than a bar full of false companions?" When Blade didn't reply, he let out a huge sigh, returning to his glass for a healthy sip of Destiny. "Wife left me a few days back. It hasn't exactly been easy since then to cope."

Blade's drink arrived, and on the first sip, he was hooked. The taste was definitively exotic, with a hint of a spice he couldn't name offhand. The burning hit his chest no sooner than he decided to gulp the misty contents, but the effect was satisfying overall. Destiny was a very good drink indeed. "What was her name?"

Keiji flinched, as if the question tangibly pricked him. At once, the happy man he had seen dancing around on his table disappeared. What was left was a mere shell, unable to show anything but numbness or depression, whichever gripped him the most in the moment. "Chelsea." He finally choked out, adjusting his glasses so that he could wipe away a tear before it emerged. He was wearing a sleeveless black shirt that would have exposed bulging muscles if it wasn't for a sleek, jet colored fabric that ran from his elbow to his hand, ending in a point. If Blade didn't know any better, he would swear that the fabric could be used as a very dangerous weapon.

"She was my everything...but with the job, and the pack...well, life is about as hard as it gets right now."

"What do you do for a living?" Blade asked, more fire igniting in his stomach. He didn't know what pressed him to gain all the information he could about Keiji, but Blade had a strong feeling that he was important.

"Look over there," Keiji gestured, pointing with one hand, while crushing his cigar remains with the other. Blade followed his arm to the top 50 bounty hunters and saw Keiji's picture plastered at the lowest spot on the board. He looked at the dollar amount associated with his kills and had to do a double take. While Keiji was listed as mid-tier class-C, the dollar amount associated with his bounties crossed even his own, which would probably place him as highest tier class-B or lowest tier class-A.

"It's always been that way," Keiji spoke, appearing sobered. "I am the only one on the list whose dollar amount has nothing to do with rank. It's by choice. The higher on the ladder you climb, the higher a bounty on your head others will place. I did it for my family, as well as my own safety."

Blade looked back at the African American male with a new level of respect. While obviously he had to possess some kind of amazing abilities to achieve that much value, he was humbling himself, even going so far as to by drinks at the bar for everyone while having a silent pity party. This man was noble, yet he had his flaws. When Blade looked up, three more glasses of Destiny had been emptied, yet Keiji's gaze was more focused than it had ever been.

"If you really want to know what the fuck I do, I clean up after you bitches. A tracker. I work for Vizuela to verify the kills you make. I'm the best nose in this goddamn city and do a goddamn good job at finding ashes and who smoked who." Keiji gulped another swig of Destiny, but didn't stagger at all, or slur his words. If anything, the alcohol seemed to be empowering him.

"It's something I suppose. Rich as shit but I never have privacy and now my wife up and leaves? God must have the cruelest sense of humor imaginable." Blade looked at him as if Keiji were an atheist, and the shaggy man laughed. "I'm not happy about anything." He finished, rubbing his temples with closed eyes. For a second, Blade could swear the man was talking quietly to someone else.

"Do you struggle with it Blade? The vampirism I mean. How do you deal with the transformation?"

Blade was prepared to shut him down, not wanting to give out too much information, also wondering where Keiji had gotten that information. Nevertheless, he concluded that a smart man would be able to ascertain that a day-walker was still part vampire, and that things were never as black and white as they seemed. In addition, Blade caught a note of mutual understanding in Keiji's tone, as if he was going through a similar situation. _Was Keiji a day-walker as well? _"It's a battle I fight every day. I fight the darkness outside, and I fight the darkness within. Humanity is always my prime concern, as a whole, and within."

Keiji nodded his head, taking another swig of his drink. "That's the kind of answer I'd expect the Alpha to give." Keiji bust out in hysterical laughter, before returning his focus to Blade. He scowled when Magberry began playing again. Their horrid playing made him want to howl.

"The Alpha?" Blade questioned, but Keiji brushed off the question easily. His sorrowful demeanor returned without warning. In his mind, Kaiser chastised him viciously, which crushed his morale. Point taken, he needed to shut up about anything related to the Pack, including subtle hints.

"May I ask something of you Blade?" The question floated to him and hang in the air. Keiji was looking down into his newest glass, searching for the correct words.

"What is it?"

"One day, someday, if this craziness in the Nexus dies down a little, let this dog of a man team up with you for a hunting. Man to man, hand-to-hand." Keiji's brown eyes were blazing with so much passion, Blade found him hard to refuse.

"Sure thing." Blade replied, tapping his glass to Keiji's. One Destiny later, he was leaving Vizuela, headed straight to Dogenzaka Hill. Lucia had to know something about Vladimir, and he was going to find out what.

"My first day of training involves a trip to Six Senses?" Aisha could hardly believe herself as she scampered behind Amara through a set of automatic glass doors. The interior of the spa retreat was coated with pure white paint, and fluffy clouds were painted on the ceiling so detailed that they could have been outside. Aisha acted as if she were a tourist, trying to take it all in at once. There were several rooms with huge, square Jacuzzis filled with bubbling water, massage chairs, tables and booths, and indoor fountains that made her heart squeeze they were so adorable. She had to tear her eyes away from an adorable baby Cupid's butt when Amara called her name. Aisha blushed, for she'd inadvertently wandered off. Aisha winced at the board containing all of Six Senses's services, noting that there was nothing on it that was less than four hundred dollars. This was why she didn't do things like this.

"Go easy on her, it's her first time." Amara giggled, in a lively conversation with the woman at the front desk. The woman gave Amara a huge, unprofessional hug, and then nodded, typing several things into the computer.

"Geez Amara, you've gotta stop with these last minute decisions." The blonde joked. She had the proportions of a cheerleader, yet the clothes of a modest businesswoman. Aisha's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as she watched the subtotal rise above one grand. She couldn't do this, there was no way she could pay even half of that at the moment.

"Well you know me." Amara responded, grabbing a towel and heading to the locker room. Aisha had to be prompted by the attendant to follow. When she did, she quickly assessed that this spa was for females only. Women draped only in towels wrapped snugly over them, passed them every ten seconds.

"Just call it a gift before the hell I'm going to put you through." Amara smiled finally addressing her earlier question. Aisha didn't know why, but after that, it became loads easier to strip in front of her. She wasn't one that opened up to people easily, but with Amara, it was quite hard to stay silent. Her bubbly attitude and never-ending optimism made Aisha infectiously giddy. Aisha chose a midnight blue towel instead of the default white. Amara clucked at her as if she knew Aisha would choose it. Amara's towel was blue as well. Without clothes, she was a lot more muscular than Aisha could remember.

"To the massage tables!" Amara declared, marching away. Aisha dashed to catch up, not even getting a word in for herself. Within five minutes, they were lying next to each other masseuses chopping steady rhythms into their naked backs.

"So this training's going to be hell huh? I don't think you know me." Aisha quipped, confidently. Amara was unfazed.

"We're only here until ten, you will be working until dawn, vampire." Amara retorted.

Aisha quickly glanced around to make sure that no one had heard the comment, but even her masseuse remained calm and nonchalant. _And damn did her hands feel good. _

"Relax Aisha, while you still can." Amara commanded. She then rolled over, placing her hands on either side of her stomach. Amara's masseuse was a shorter, Indian woman with hair that almost touched the floor. She began kneading Amara's feet, which had to be at least a size 11 in men's. Amara lay back, closing her eyes, and then she popped up, as an idea filled her head. "What's it like working with Blade?" She asked. Aisha's breathing stopped.

"Blade? You mean the day-walker? Why would you think we're connected in any sort of way?" Aisha stammered, unable to conceal the humongous blush that appeared on her face. She wanted to sink right through the massage table and melt into the floor. _How could she have been baited into a question like that? Why in the world would Amara ask that?_

"Oh? You like him as well?" Amara asked, further flustering her. The two masseuses smiled at each other in unison. Aisha hadn't even begun her hellish training yet, but she felt like this would be a reasonable substitute. She was already ready to quit.

"Back home in Brazil, my tribe would tell stories of his exploits while revealing our deepest fantasies about him. Care to tell me yours?" Amara pressed on, without missing a beat. Aisha was dumbstruck for a second. She couldn't tell if Amara was toying with her, or if she was completely serious. Aisha opted for evasion.

"Since you're an Amazonian, is your tribe really all women? How do you stay alive?"

"Aisha, why do you evade me so?" Amara began, standing to her feet and rolling her neck. The masseuse bowed to her and then scurried off to a new table where another woman was already splayed on her back naked. "It's complicated for me and the other Nzinga warriors. Long story dramatically shortened, we partner with surrounding tribes to copulate, and if the child is a male, he stays with the other family. If the child is female, she is adopted into our tribe and raised accordingly." Amara raised up her hand to silence any further questions Aisha could devise. "What's it like working side by side with the legendary vampire hunter? Do you ever have your doubts about him?"

The pair settled into dual massage chairs, receiving pedicures on the fly without breaking their conversation. The room they were now in provided a wonderful overhead view of the city, yet smelled like a spring breeze over a natural meadow of rich flowers. Aisha couldn't remember the last time she'd smelled anything like it. Her body calmed down on its own volition, and each breath she took seemed to rejuvenate her. Aromatherapy was something she'd absolutely have to check into later on.

"His swordplay is among the most masterful I've ever encountered. His fighting style is precisely attuned to his amazing body, and the deep timbre of his voice..." Aisha trailed off and then gasped, bringing her fingers to her lips. Her attendant made a noise between an agitated grunt and a squeal and she apologized. It was far too easy to talk about him.

"I'd imagine so, those rippling muscles, toned abs, and his eyes...Lord have mercy!" Everyone in the room laughed, including several strangers who were conversing in a hot tub in the corner. "What I would give to spend one night alone with that devilishly handsome king." Amara continued, a few of the other girls nodding toward her.

Aisha felt strange. She knew inside that she was jealous, but she wanted to keep talking about him. She wanted to one up Amara on this. For fifteen seconds, she gripped her hands tightly together, but then she burst. Her mouth wouldn't have stayed shut if she glued her lips together. Not about this.

"Imagine his bare chest glistening with sweat after an afternoon spar..."

This sent the girls into a frenzy, women of all shapes and sizes crowding around her asking for more details. Even Amara looked impressed, conceding the verbal competition and watching Aisha reminisce. She was glad that Aisha was happy, and even happier that she'd chosen to come to the States when she had. Armband or not, Amara felt that Aisha would do a fantastic job as her successor, yet knew that she never would agree to lead a tribe of Amazonian warriors.

"Do they have acupuncture here?" Aisha asked, walking to their own private hot tub. This one was in the center of the room, and a chandelier illuminated it. It was completely empty, and rather romantic, but Aisha didn't pick up any suggestive undertones. The spa had closed officially at eight, and yet, there they were.

"Of course Aisha, we'll go right after this." She smirked, sighing deeply as the water coated her slim bronzed back. She'd imagined Aisha as the type to never get naked in front of a woman, the type to refuse to be pampered by anyone else, the type too afraid to try things outside of their comfort zone. Amara couldn't have been more wrong. Aisha had spent 70% of the day even without her midnight towel, and had gotten several things done, from facials to a bikini wax, and even a Japanese Shiatsu massage. Purifying rituals had excited her as much as the many different moisturizers available. But by far, Amara was sure the detoxifying shower was Aisha's favorite. Her face was brighter than Amara had ever seen it, and as innocent and pure as a child's. She found that if she didn't put herself in check soon, Amara would develop maternal instincts.

"What are you thinking?" Aisha made a display of swimming the short distance across the tub, so that she could sit directly next to her. She pulled back loose black strands of wet hair behind her ears and stared at the older woman, willing her to answer.

"You don't have to compel me." Amara admitted, placing her hand over Aisha's and feeling a warmth beyond what the hot tub had to offer. "I was thinking about Blade's mother. I knew her you know."

Aisha backed away, stunned. Amara looked as if she wasn't a day over 21, yet she was making such wild accusations?

"You lie."

"Her name was Tara Brooks, and she worked in a brothel in Soho." Amara responded, pleased with Aisha's silence.

"Forgive me." Aisha was quick and sincere. Once again, someone else had more knowledge than her, and she silently craved it. Though she'd allied with him for years, she'd never heard his story until then and what a long one it was.

"Prepare yourself." Amara admonished, as they drove outside of the Nexus. "This next part is going to test your limits."

Tiffany cringed away from him. She could not avoid his onslaught, and knew it was pointless to block him. Arousing any further anger in him would only prolong her agonizing torture, and she didn't want any more of her bones broken. She was trembling as is, struggling to breathe on the rocky ground.

"He was not supposed to kill Salazar that was not in the agenda!" Vladimir screamed, throwing Tiffany so hard away from him that a bleeding gash appeared on her head where she struck the wall. A gruesome stain remained, marking her presence. Before she could move, Vladimir was already standing over her, stomping down terribly hard over her chest. She couldn't breathe.

"Now, when I send in Marcus to create the vampire legion, he won't be under the complete cover of darkness! Blade will know of his exploits within the first one hundred turns!" His anger wasn't going to subside. Tiffany watched his terrifying mouth split into three sections, full of sharp teeth as he screeched a sound so vile it made her teeth grind together. Because she could hardly feel anything but pain, she didn't realize her ears were bleeding until Vladimir dragged her to her feet, only to knock her down again with a chop to the neck. It almost broke.

"Your fuckup has cost you all of your allegiance with me. Were it not for the fact that you are the only piece capable of luring Blade and his friends here to Amaurot, you would cease to exist where you lie, you pitiful little wench." He raised a clawed hand, which became as hard as granite. Vladimir's next blow would have killed Tiffany instantly, but a softer hand somehow managed to hold back his fierce attack. If only for a second, Tiffany was grateful for the mercy.

"Akane, what are you doing here?" He asked, his tone slightly irritable. Vladimir stood to his feet, his jaw correcting itself so that he looked human. Though his eyes would not change from being brilliantly yellow, the rest of him merely looked like a common bodybuilder wearing modern day attire. "Do you seek to provoke my wrath as well?" The question came out as a hiss, making the beautiful woman opposite him take a step backward, though it wasn't in fear, only respect.

"I sense an animosity towards my daughter in this one, master. Allow me to handle this trash so as not to dirty your hands." Akane swept into a deep Japanese style bow, which defused the heaviest part of Vladimir's anger.

"Deal with her." Vladimir commanded, sweeping out of the room.

"Ah yes, how does one deal with a traitor?" Akane mused, walking a slow, but threatening circle around Tiffany, who could do nothing more than choke while trying to breathe and cringe to prepare for the next blow.

"Now listen here." Akane began, becoming liquid motion. In the next three seconds, Tiffany's head was slammed against a tall stone pillar made of thick bricks. Akane was only slightly taller than Tiffany, but had her lifted three inches off the ground by her neck. While Akane's body pulsed with a sinister red aura, Tiffany's brain exploded with millions of pain signals. She scrabbled at Akane's hands with thick claws, but the vice-grip didn't ease up, even when she drew several lines of blood on Akane's hands. Akane simply smiled, watching Tiffany struggle. Asphyxiation alone wouldn't kill a vampire, it would just severely maim them for a time period slightly exceeding half an hour. But Akane had no intention of letting Tiffany lose consciousness.

Tiffany's eyes widened and blood spilled from her sides, Akane's claws stabbing clean wounds deep into her stomach. Her body began to spasm, and her eyelids blinked rapidly. She was no longer attempting to breathe, but flailing any limb she could to escape Akane's hold. The Japanese vampire laughed haughtily, her skin once again flawless, having healed the minor scratches that Tiffany had given it. She shifted in her black kimono, the decorative skulls woven into the fabric mystically moving throughout the adornment. Tiffany fell to the floor, but couldn't see anything else. Bright red lashed out and shackled itself to her hands and feet, producing electric shocks throughout her body.

"How dare you say those things to my daughter!" Akane roared, her voice magnified over twenty times. Though she could only read the surface of Tiffany's thoughts, she also had the ability to shift Tiffany's mind away from the pain. While pondering the accusation and being prepared to protest to try and save herself, Tiffany had fallen for Akane's trap, and Akane's glittering red eyes bored straight into her soul.

"Ah, too bad I couldn't have witnessed the sparring match between you two. You deserved every hit you received. However, whether you deserve it or not, in the next few days you're going to wish that I was Aisha, and not her diabolical mother hell-bent on torturing you." Akane closed her eyes, and purple beads shot from her kimono's sleeve, binding tightly to her right arm. "Shini, shini, koroshi...2" Akane began, before reciting a Japanese death poem that she'd written over fifty years ago. The white skulls that moved across the kimono's surface leapt to life, floating around her and glowing with small flames inside the eyes, nose and ear sockets.

"Wait!" Tiffany screamed, using the last of her breath.

The skulls couldn't hear her.

"Yo, war room in five!" Panther burst in, interrupting Aiden's meditation. He scowled back, and with unintentional force, summarily told Panther which part of his body he could shove that comment in. Looking slightly taken aback, Aiden's leader adjusted the collar on his shirt, shrugged, and then closed the door. It didn't take any special ability for Aiden to realize how angry he'd just made Panther, but now was not the right time. Not for Panther, not for Vici, not for anything. Kokei climbed up a set of pull up bars in his room, and started to swing upside down on one of them, using the backs of his knees for support. The long sash covering his eyes unbound, and fell to the floor and he opened his eyes.

At first he didn't see anything, just the normal darkness that anyone would see if they closed their eyes, akin to the back of the head. With a few deep breaths, Kokei centered himself, and the visions came pouring in. The first was of Aisha's 7th birthday, when Akane had decided that once she became of age, she would grant her the Koga family's sacred sword, Makugane. From that celebratory feast onwards, Aisha had never stopped using her wooden sword. She even slept with one.

Kokei would have laughed at the vivid memory, but doing so would break his perfect concentration. For next, huge pillars of flame appeared behind his eyes, his mother being torn away from him by bandits with eyes as scarlet as the rising moon. He remembered fleeing for his life, slashing his arm so deeply while falling down the stairs to get to Aisha, who was in the connected Kendo dojo. The scar still remained today, just as some of the more severe burns on his back did.

He'd seen her, small and innocent, yet too adorable for words. She had very long hair even at a young age, and she refused to wear it in any other fashion but straight down her back. The only exception were two locks of slick black hair that framed her face, held in place by small heart-shaped barrettes. _Run! Take the ferry to America! America! _Aiden had screamed, forced to detour around a huge section of the house which had collapsed perfectly between them. He and Aisha always had the boat tickets on hand, with the destination highlighted in red. No matter what situation arose, the tickets could be used, no cash required. Their clan was always prepared for disaster. That is how it was in Japan at the time, vampires were everywhere.

Kokei recollected the burning in his lungs as he fled to the docks, and the first feeling of fresh despair and fear that was born from a rope securing snugly around his midsection. He was only twelve then, and had no chance fighting the four fully grown men that approached him with weapons unlike any he'd ever seen. _To the entire Koga clan! We of the noble Yamakita bloodline will never accept this union! Four years it has taken for this moment to come, now watch as we blind this child, and in doing so blind you all from your future! May darkness ensnare your cursed family forever! _Kokei would never forget the words. He was lifted from the ground and tied to a post high in the air. It was ironic that the last thing he'd ever seen had been the most beautiful sight of Japan he'd had in his young life. A knife ended his vision, and sent his cries echoing louder than the flames of their burned down house. He knew Aisha was watching him somewhere. With the last bit of hope inside his heart, he screamed for her to get on the ferry before it was too late. He could hear the boat departing, but would never see it, or Aisha again.

Kokei reached down and grabbed the handmade sash, tying it intricately back around his blind eyes. Today was the anniversary of that fire, his blinding, and his separation from both the Yamakita and the Koga clans. He paid his respects, lighting four sticks of incense representing the deaths that had occurred that day. While the smell of deep sage and lavender coated the room, he resigned himself to attend the meeting, unsure of how long he'd been in his meditative state.

"Glad you could join us Kokei." Angela nodded, waiting for him to take his seat. Within minutes, Kokei was caught up on their latest plan, which was to gather information on the nanosuit that had attacked Blade in Times Square. That kind of technology was big, and if SPECS had the one up, it was only right for Vici to up its game as well collectively.

"As you can see from this newscast," Angela began, cracking up. "The President and Vice President of SPECS are on a date, and half of the employees of the company are taking vacations themselves. I was able to hack the security room time card reader, and guess who just clocked out?"

"The tape viewer." Trigger said, a big grin across his face. He liked the sound of this infiltration, and was ready to spring into action.

Angela pointed to him and acknowledged his correct response. She waved her hands on both sides of her waist. "Making the best time to get the information..."

"Right now." Everyone but Angela said in unison. After a quick debriefing, studying of the layout, and some last minute weapon decisions, the team was out, making sure to park their vehicle exactly a mile outside of SPECS HQ. There were two gates to get by, and those would require intense effort. They had no intention on killing anyone however, for all of their arsenals contained stunning rounds. The worst they could do would be to incapacitate individuals for hours on end with forceful shots to the head and chest.

The reduction in staff made sneaking in and splitting up very easy. Angela was constantly tapping buttons on her PDA to alter door locks, blank computer screens and redirect sneaky cameras. Everything was going well, until Panther spoke over their four way mic.

"Guys, I'm there, fourth basement floor, second door!" His transmission ended on an outcry, and Angela's heart sped up, slamming against her chest. She was sure that the others were just as highly alert. Any second now, an alarm would be blaring, which would lock down the building. Dozens of officers, trained tacticians, and even janitors would be armed and homing in on their exact locations, most likely to capture them and send them to prison for the affront. Or so she thought. Angela had no clue what the punishment was for breaking into an internationally recognized establishment, one that the Nexus's government was very much invested into. _Scratch that. We're fucked._

Sweat dripped uncomfortably down her sides, while she hid in the ladies bathroom, squatting atop a stall so that anyone entering wouldn't see her feet. She needed every precaution possible. Her PDA showed Panther's position just as well as the rest of the teams'. She was the only one that wasn't on the correct floor, she couldn't believe it. Thankfully, there was no alarm, so Panther hadn't alerted anyone. Her heart could be at ease knowing that he wasn't in any danger, at least other than being spotted and immediately executed by a highly trained riot officer... She made up her mind that instant. The stairs were nearby, so she'd take them in waves, jumping down every level. She let her Nike's grace the bathroom floor, and opened the stall door, which she had shut and locked before.

"It's about time they hooked up. That handsome bastard needs some stability in his life." Two women entered the bathroom, headed straight to the sinks. Angela quickly reentered the stall, locking it again as quietly as possible, seconds away from being spotted.

"Well it's sad really. I heard Jonathan used to have a fiancée back in his younger days, but vampires got to her. He hasn't been the same since." The woman who was speaking looked up in the mirror, seeing only blue stall doors behind her. She continued applying way too much makeup to her face.

"Dr. Rashidli is so fucking lucky she's a model. I'd hop on that dick any day for a man as devoted and handsome as that. And have you seen him shoot? He's just too sexy." The woman laughed with her cohort. "One second, watch my purse." She added, turning toward the stalls. "I talk about him, and suddenly my vagina goes crazy." The brunette snorted. In the background, the makeup fanatic simply shook her head. The brunette opened the stall door, and the ceiling light in the bathroom went out.

"What the fuck?" Angela heard them both curse. She was long gone, dashing down the stairwells and praying that no one would use them over the convenience of the elevators. _That was too close. _She chastised herself. Thank God she had quick enough fingers to perform the electrical override. Normally, that sort of thing would be a bitch to do, especially when it had to be confined to only one room.

She reached Panther's location almost slamming into the other two members of her team.

"Where is he?" She asked, albeit breathless because of her journey from three floors above. She received no response, instead, the men both pointed down through bulletproof glass and a locked door reminiscent of a bank vault. She read the bright yellow caution sign above it. _Caution: Danger Room Ahead._

1Kakka is used in Japanese as an honorific, refers to someone of very high national importance

242-42-564 or Die, die, kill (in Japanese)


	11. Chapter 10: BBQ With the Van Helsings

**Chapter Ten**

Panther had to shield his eyes from the sudden intense heat. He'd been inside the room only moments before a wide, African land stretched all the way around him, with no exit in sight. A curious vulture circled dozens of feet above him, before dive-bombing a hyena's carcass, pulling away a thick mass of flesh with ease. Instead of moving closer to the carrion, Panther began a slow walk in the opposite direction, toward one of the most beautiful cities he had ever seen. With a beautiful mountain overshadowing it in the distance encircled at the base by a sparkling blue river, he had to catch his breath. He'd never been to Africa before, but what Lee Nixon and textbooks told, few could top the cultural genius of the continent. Of course, seeing this city up close felt surreal. In fact, the advancement seemed unlike anything Africa could produce, in fact, while nothing like the Nexus, this city had to be its African equivalent. Huge, multistory buildings lined a central street that had small, yet efficient cars chugging away amidst general pedestrians. Everyone that met his eye was dressed down in gold jewelry, with purple clothing. Most of the African men had abandoned their shirts for a stronger sense of duty. Sweat coated every back, and everyone was working, constantly. He tried to stop several people for directions to anyone who could speak English, but all he got were head nods and points further up the street. The few times he could hear any form of language, his brain was powerless to translate. Panther thought he heard some words of Yoruba origin, yet their context confounded him. Their language had to be yet another ingenious example of cultural excellence.

The further up he walked, the harder it was to breathe. Curvy women with large weaved baskets atop their heads eyed him curiously, and the higher he walked, the less people there were. He officially exited the residential district and was blown away again. A walkway wide enough to hold twenty metrobuses greeted him, but he wasn't looking at the ground beneath him. His eyes were thousands of feet in the air, where a golden and majestic building commanded his attention. In the center was a domed square, glistening as brilliantly as a diamond in the sweltering heat. Behind that was an even taller skyscraper, with a logo on it similar to the Thundercats, only the black interior was in the shape of a panther. More exciting than that were the forty-foot tall statues that encircled the entire palace in a frozen, yet captivating predatory dance. As he walked forward as if zombified, a profound cool washed over him. Huge Marula trees shaded the walkway on either side, and there were red, green and black flags flying every few meters. Panther wasn't alone though, for the first time since his appearance, he kept his guard up.

People around him were pointing and staring now. Groups of three littered the pathway, openly adorned with knives as bright as the gold that rimmed their ankles. He was so busy inspecting the shadows around him, that an old man who suddenly appeared in front of him floored him. Rubbing his throbbing forehead, Panther looked up and noticed a great black beard, which almost extended to the ground. A hand offered assistance, and Panther took it, rising to his feet and towering over the man, who was hunched at about four feet tall.

"Right this way young warrior, the knowledge you seek is a little less than a mile away." The old man nodded and began leading him, leaning heavily on an ebony cane whose carvings were unidentifiable. Panther had thousands of questions to ask, but couldn't bring himself to ask any of them. He was too impressed by the groups surrounding him. Where once they had been hateful, gossiping and silently malicious, they now averted their gaze, or simply bowed their heads in their direction. This man had to be important, but who was he?

After walking for what seemed like ages more, Panther suddenly was swarmed by people screaming in every direction. While they moved for the man ahead of him, he wasn't granted the luxury. More than once, someone's elbow hit him painfully as hands shot to the sky, people cheering louder and louder. His eardrums couldn't handle the damage, but he persevered, enduring their wails for what lay ahead. Redoubling his efforts, he caught up to the old man ahead of him, following him up a few stairs to an elevated platform that was shielded from the sun by a gigantic aqua colored tent. Panther didn't dare look at the crowd though, because before him was a purple boxing ring, within which stood someone he never believed in a million years he'd be blessed enough to meet.

The old man practically shoved him into the ring, and Panther responded by falling to his knees in a bow. Around him, seven figures clad in black shifted, enveloping the ring in a protective formation. These men were different. None of them was any less than 190 pounds, and each were in peak physical condition. Their weapons varied from twin spears to brass knuckles. These were the Dora Milaje, the King's personal guard.

"This is the one T'Challa, timid and amazed as he may be." The old man voiced gruffly. He bowed his head.

T'Challa laughed loud enough for the entire roaring crowd to hear him. When he finished, the masses quieted to a hush with a mere look from their king. "Humble enough to follow an elder whom you have never met, strong enough to survive in a land which you've never been, speaking a language you've never heard, and wise enough to know who to show respect to, and in the proper degree. Rise, and show them all what you have been blessed with, the Golden Gauntlets of the Panther!"

Keith rose then, unable to do much else. When he raised his hands over his head, his weapons gleamed in a single beam of sunlight, amassing more cheering from those watching. The beam widened to accompany his body, bathing him in sunlight that didn't have a temperature to it. When he put the weapons at his sides, Keith felt stronger than ever, but the experience wasn't over yet.

"Come with me. There is more you must do to receive true strength. Your potential is still partially hidden. Let us unlock it together." T'Challa clapped a hand on Keith's back, and the next thing he knew, he was inside the palace, on one of the highest floors, looking down over the great nation of Wakanda. No matter which way he looked, the nation was great, large and run efficiently. A battalion of ships that made up Wakanda's Navy sat in the docks to the south, while a fully operational airfield housed over thirty jet fighters that were armed with more than just rockets. Panther found it amazing that there was enough time to have all of this established, and that it was ruled by a sole monarch, T'Challa, the Black Panther himself. A new wave of awe punched him straight in the gut. Here he was, a lowly vampire hunter, in the presence of one of the greatest monarchs to ever live. He wasn't worthy.

"Paradise Forest to the east, Mount Kanda to the north, Tranquility Temple in the west, and the River of Grace and Wisdom to the south. What would you say if I told you it all belonged to you? How would you govern such a wide expanse?" T'Challa sat on a three-leveled throne, gazing pointedly at Panther, his smirk a curious one. He also didn't have on a shirt, muscles rippled, yet coated with pure gold necklaces. In his left hand, he held an enormous staff, which Panther couldn't even name, despite his passed down knowledge.

"Are you telling me that I'm next in line? That's impossible! I'm just a vampire hunter; I have a team to look after." Panther panicked. The weight of the opportunity before him making him struggle between the life he'd always known, and a completely different one before him. He, a king? Angela would never believe this...

T'Challa shook his head. "I jest young warrior. You are not in line for the throne. You must first accept your destiny, learn what it means to bear those gauntlets, and then, unfortunately, you are needed elsewhere. I would not rob anyone of their place, for the one above is greater than I, greater than my father, and greater than the panther."

Keith couldn't hide the sadness and overwhelming disappointment that overtook his face. It was true, he wouldn't ever be much more than a vampire hunter, and was limited in the amount of lives he could affect. His dreams to change the world were far too far-fetched to matter to someone who already had millions of people at his command.

"What must I do?" Was the only question he was able to ask without shame.

"Pray." T'Challa answered. He dismissed three of the Dora Milaje from the room, leaving only the old man. T'Challa waited for the man to cross the room, and then started swinging the great staff in his hands. The old man began a five-minute long Wakandan chant, eyes closed, body rigid as stone, while T'Challa performed more and more techniques on the air around him. Both of them ended at the same time, and the old man slammed his cane into the ground just when T'Challa smacked the staff into the green carpet.

Panther couldn't move. A brilliant circle trapped him within its perimeter, obscuring the outside world with a light so bright, he was forced to squint. Not tempted to escape, Panther dropped to his knees when his body responded, and launched into prayer, asking God for the blessing of the panther.

Outside of the circle, T'Challa channeled spirit energy from within, using the staff to stir the light around Panther, producing vibrant streaks of purple and gold within the circle of light. His intervention became an ancient dance, while the old man stepped back to observe.

"Do you think he'll survive? I mean this is _your_ future king." The man stroked his lengthy black beard and narrowed his eyebrows. "Isn't he a little young to receive such a blessing just yet?"

T'Challa finished his dance, and the circle of light that extended straight into the air, beyond the ceiling glowed both violet and green. While the light became as hard as glass around Panther, it still wasn't transparent enough to visualize the warrior within it. T'Challa handed the old man the staff, which disappeared the moment it changed hands.

"The blessing is God's to give, not mine." The king began. "And as to if he will survive or not, well, I have a feeling he won't be in this place much longer. There are even greater things he must do to help the Nexus, the core of the very world as we know it."

The old man seemed to take his words to heart, and with a megawatt smile full of missing teeth, evaporated into thin air.

Afternoon or not, it was ridiculously easy to enter the mansion, in fact, Blade took extra precaution once inside just to be safe. It wasn't needed however; he followed his nose up a red-carpeted staircase, straight into the East wing of the massive 8,300 square foot behemoth. Blade slammed his back against the wall, and then swung low around the corner, gun cocked and aimed directly at Lucia, who stared at him expectantly.

"What do you want Day-walker, today is not the day." Lucia almost sighed, when Blade blasted out a section of the wall behind her. The shot was merely for warning, yet didn't alarm her at all. Instead, she scowled at the broken wall, which she knew he wouldn't replace. Was everyone this rude when they came to see her?

"I want answers, and word on the street is that you have them." Blade sprinted across the room, scooped Lucia up by her neck, and crashed it against a cabinet full of china. The second her obsidian hair struck the cabinet, several expensive figurines shattered within the enclosure. Blade growled deep, his fangs fully present and in Lucia's face. Despite the threat, Lucia remained unfazed, her crimson eyes boring into his. Her hands were placid at her sides, and her breathing was eerily at peace.

When he didn't get an answer, he shoved her harder, rocking the cherry shaded chamber dangerously against the wall. Lucia didn't move.

"Answer me!" He yelled, trading his grip on her neck for an arm smashing down on her windpipe. The rich vampire finally gave into emotion, struggling against him, but gaining no ground. Her face contorted into that of rage, desperation, and finally disappointment. She wouldn't be able to hold up her silent act much longer. Her desire to avoid asphyxiation was stronger.

Lucia plucked the pin on one of Blade's flash grenades from his six, smiling when the bright explosion caused him to howl in surprise. While she was at it, she extracted his long sword from its sheath, and moved a safe distance away. It didn't take Blade long to realize that he'd never had her pinned at all. She admired his astuteness, but had many more vampire wiles to bait him with if she needed to. Didn't he understand a warning when he heard one? Today was not the day.

Once the offending light vacated the room, his senses snapped back into focus. He still held the gun in his hand, having reloaded it seconds earlier. He centered the aim on Lucia's head and growled again. It was quite a pain having been disarmed so easily, but he didn't dare underestimate Lucia's ability. She was a member of vampire royalty after all. Even so, he also wouldn't give her more credit than she was due. He'd ended vampire royals just as easily as the rest when they obstructed him from his mission. Currently, that was Vladimir, and if Lucia didn't comply soon, she would be nothing more than one of those obstructions that he'd gladly turn to ash.

"Oh Blade, come now. With humans, guns might always prevail over the sword, but I think we both know otherwise when it comes to us vampires." Her smile became cocky, giving him glimpses of even, white teeth. She hadn't even dropped fang yet. This pissed him off; she wasn't taking him seriously.

Blade emptied two clips in that room, breaking paintings, splintering tables, and making the wall beg for mercy. Feathers swirled from the lush, purple couches that had taken a bullet beat down. Light bulbs shattered, fish tanks exploded, and armoires burst open, spitting forth newly tattered attire. Lucia yawned, though preserving her flawless concentration. Her right arm swung wildly, but rewarded her with invulnerability, for she deflected every one of his shots with ease. Behind her, a dim sunlight eased its way into the room, bathing the vampire in an otherworldly glow. When he had finished shooting, she swiped near the floor, as if cleaning the offending metal from Blade's famous weapon.

Blade carefully calculated his next move. The terrain was in his favor; there were plenty of sharp edges in the room created by bullets to aid him. Nevertheless, even though he had a moderate amount of silver stakes with him, going hand to hand against his own weapon would be foolish. He'd erroneously attributed Lucia to be the fencing type, but her champion swordplay had proven him wrong. He analyzed his opponent a little longer, recognizing sunlight resistant threads instantly. While it wasn't exactly a cape, Lucia wore a wide, navy blue adornment that ran from the back of her neck down to her lower abdomen that protected her wonderfully. No matter how high up the socioeconomic ladder you climbed, even filtered sunlight would be painfully damaging to a pureblood vampire.

"Your move tiger." Lucia taunted seductively, combing some hair over her left eye. Her right eye opened even wider, pulsing to an invisible rhythm. The iris cycled every hue of red in the visible spectrum, an astounding feat, which even impressed Blade, though he wouldn't admit it. She held his sword at the ready, in a Kenjutsu style Blade didn't recognize, not that he'd have to.

Lucia gasped as eight knives slashed through the sword's base with a ringing sound. Then she started to laugh. Her fingers were meticulously placed along the handle so that even though the sharp edges of the knives were angled toward her skin, she wasn't cut at all. Had he thought she would fall for such an amateurish ruse? Everyone and their families knew about the hidden weapons inside Blade's magnificent death dealer. Few knew how to disable them though, so disarming the day-walker was usually the best they could hope for. Lucia snapped her eyes back to the room and away from her hands. Blade was gone.

He rammed her so forcefully that the air left her lungs, and then kicked her feet out from beneath her, landing atop her core with his full body weight. Lucia dropped his sword and dry heaved as an ungodly amount of pressure crushed her inner organs. Within seconds, Blade had her immobilized, and a sharp three-pronged shuriken near her trachea. She congratulated him on the inside. She could play more mind games if she wanted to, but was tired of fighting for the day. Honestly, she couldn't remember the last time that she'd decided to stay home and the day had actually been relaxing. Someone was always coming to her for answers, dark secrets, or favors that would benefit them at her expense. Did she have to pay people to sympathize with her every once in awhile? Did no one in this world care for Lucia Noblesse?

"Vladimir Drovsky, tell me everything you know about him." Blade threatened, edging the shuriken ever so closely to Lucia's porcelain skin.

"Surely you have leverage." Lucia grunted with a pained breath. "You didn't come here to kill me."

Once he heard the will to cooperate in her voice, he eased off her, tensing up in case she launched another mystical assault against him, but nothing strange happened. For half a second, Lucia caught her breath, and in the next, she was standing on her feet, wiping debris from her clothes. A grandiose pink pierced the stained glass windows, embracing the room with signs of sunset. When Lucia had gathered herself sufficiently, she moved to the opposite side of the room, taking a seat on the rim of a stone fountain modeled in Miuccia Prada's likeness. Water splashed in the basin from tiny pores in the exquisitely detailed six-inch heels that she wore. Lucia dipped her hand in, and found it to be extremely cold. She stirred an oblong shape to dispel her reflection, and then turned back to Blade, who eyed her with a mixture of caution and impatience.

"Miuccia Prada died at the age of 96 with a net worth of over 60 billion dollars. Her enterprise is worldwide and still growing to this day." Lucia began. To Blade, it sounded as if she was rambling, and soon, her jabbering made less sense than it had in the beginning. "Prada said that she never had fun a day in her life, because her family was too serious. She also said that before she had children, she went out every night." Lucia cracked a smile at that, gripping her stomach as a small fit of giggles overtook her. Blade didn't have time for her incessant prattling.

"Cut the weird shit Lucia." Blade scoffed, pulling out two of the tri-bladed shuriken she had seen before. "Before I cut you." He added in a no nonsense tone. He took three steps forward and then stopped in confusion, for Lucia held out her hand to him, as if that was supposed to stop him. He was frozen all right, but more from incredulous bewilderment than against his will.

"Quote, what people sometimes interpret as quirky is my attempt to subvert the concept of luxury by introducing elements that are considered ordinary or commonplace." Blade's anger boiled over.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" This wasn't getting anywhere. He would have killed her long ago if he had any other lead on where he could easily obtain the same information. Sadly, there were none. Even so, his patience was truly being tested, and was pulled taut as it was. If he snapped, he'd snap her neck. Other wealthy vampires resided in the Nexus. Lucia didn't have to be his last resort.

"It means that you wouldn't be here if I gave up this life. If I simply abandoned my resources and had my assets drained. If I were a woman living on the corner of 5th Street, I'd be dead to you, whether or not I knew about Vladimir. You call my speech weird, yet are stuck between two extremes, forever in limbo, because of your own personal indecision. You say you are human at your roots, yet are clearly inhuman, both on the battlefield, and in the city. You murder often, your sword rings true, but are in steady conflict with the mission your human self has given your vampire self. You won't be able to fight it much longer. But alas, I can relate. The day I give up my wealth is the day you give up your humanity. We may never see that." Lucia concluded, resting her hands in her lap. As always, her nails were beautifully manicured, and her hands unmarred by any physical blemish. There were hardly wrinkles around her knuckles.

"Talk." Blade demanded, ignoring everything she had spoken. He was two seconds away from slashing her throat.

"Or what?" Lucia responded, making a grand gesture of using her hands as scales on either side of her body.

"Aisha finds a reason to drop her commitment to whatever you have going on."

This piqued Lucia's interest and raised her eyebrows.

"What makes you think she'll defect once she's started fighting? I've got more than just the goods on Vladimir you know." Lucia winked, her eyes now a dull ruby. Nevertheless, Blade had baited her, and now he knew that she had intel.

"Her sense of honor and duty," Blade began, not stopping for pause. "I think you'll find that her allegiance to me is greater than some petty engagement with the likes of you." Lucia chose that moment to interrupt him.

"I know the bushido code in and out you cretin. You'd need more than that to get her back." Lucia snapped, finding herself suddenly standing. He was stirring her emotions now.

"Want me to call her? Last I checked with Aisha, you registered her into the tournament already, so she can compete with or without you as a sponsor. Wanna confirm with her? On the other hand, perhaps we could have her help me kill you where you stand? A single word from me and you're nothing but an emaciated, self-absorbed, pencil necked floozy. Your choice." Blade's snarky attitude must've hit just the right way, because his bluff worked. He hadn't talked to Aisha at all about the tournament's details, but had made correct assumptions. Throwing those insults in there had to have contributed too.

"Fine, since you're so persistent and have a mouth fouler than the toilets you surely drink from; let's make a contract that we both can benefit from." Lucia made sure to say both extra loud. Blade nodded. "I'm no fool; she's doing something to win that tournament for more than just what I have to offer her. Aisha is your ally after all, so there must be some reason you have her participating." Blade remained quiet, and forced himself to be nonchalant and callous at the same time. Again, it was a success. "When she wins for both you and I, I'll tell you everything that I know, and even fill your pockets to boot."

This shocked Blade, but he accepted the terms. He wasn't sure if Lucia's word was as binding as a written contract might be, but he also knew that the information Lucia withheld had to be crucial to gathering Vladimir's artifacts. The rich had many resources, and as Lucia had pointed out, the day she abandoned them was the day he gave up his humanity. That would never happen.

Dr. Rashidli smiled again, for what seemed like her thousandth time that day. She was really enjoying herself. When she looked over Syfy's shoulder, she saw the multitude of buildings that made up the Nexus below. The city was as busy as ever, and though hundreds of feet above it, traffic still pervaded the streets. Dozens of people donned in business littered the sidewalks, looking like ants scurrying to follow a pheromone trail to an unknown food source. Speaking of, she slowly turned to focus on him again, her nose following his masculine scent. The cologne she recognized instantly as Usher, yet there was something so titillating about the fusion of it, and his natural smell, that her eyes practically sparkled when she inhaled. He looked up at her, halfway through chewing a morsel of T-bone steak flavored with A1 steak sauce.

"Are you going to touch your plate?" He asked, pointing with his fork to the steaming chicken parmigiana. As delicious as it looked on a carefully decorated ten-inch china plate, she hadn't once dug in to eat yet. After a not so hidden blush, she appeased him by taking in a generous mouthful. Her tongue burned.

"Here, here, are you okay?" Syfy had cleared the distance between them in a flash, a bottled Dasani water thoughtfully in his hand. She waved him away bashfully, instead helping herself to the triangle glass of red wine on her left. The heat in her stomach was more than enough to combat that on her face. Why was she acting like such a child? Hadn't she been on any dates before? She was a former model after all.

"You're silly, but that's quite cute." Syfy addressed her with a gentle grin. He'd sat down back on his side of the glassy square table after verifying that she hadn't hurt herself too badly. His statement brought fresh heat to her cheeks that rivaled that of the wine. She couldn't stop herself, so she laughed while denying it entirely. That would be genuine smile a thousand and one.

"Can I get another one of these?" Dr. Rashidli asked aloud to the bartender. In seconds, he slung a new glass, which completed a full 360-degree orbit around a glowing, circular bar, and into her waiting hand. She drank down half of it before returning to her pricey meal. All along, Jonathan just stared at her, intently analyzing her every move. Sometimes with him, she felt as if she were under a microscope, somehow projecting to him her deepest secrets and aspirations. Other times, such as now, she felt completely vulnerable and at his mercy. She wanted his protection, and having his analytical eyes wide open was the best way to ensure that she got it.

Syfy lulled her into friendly banter about vacation planning and politics. It was really nice for a while, but then, after an hour of banter, she got the feeling he was fishing for topics rather than coming up with anything creative. She took it upon herself to shift the conversation to something she knew he'd talk more about: vampires.

"The man with Blade, do we have any new leads on him?" She began, innocently combing her fingers through her hair. She was thankful that she'd chosen to wear it down for their date, both for aesthetic and distractive reasons.

The question gave Syfy pause for only a second. "The combat boot trail led us to 84 year-old James Rotom, who lives in a nursing home on the south side. We scrapped everything about him shortly after discovering that. Apparently, we hadn't given Blade's tactics enough merit. For all we know, there might not have been anyone with him that night." Syfy sliced off another piece of steak, devouring it.

"What about the recent infiltration? Do we have any idea who had the capability to break into our HQ? Doesn't it seem a little strange to you that they didn't steal anything, sabotage any data, or kill any of our workers?" She eyed him closely over the edge of her glass, taking savory sips of her wine. The parmigiana had found a new home in her stomach.

Again, he paused, replaying the events from that day. He couldn't exactly say that a female vampire that he was connected to somehow was stalking him, nor could he find the words to explain her intrusion. He himself had no clue on why she homed in on him undetected, merely for the purpose of playing mental games? Did she come only to inform him of their twisted connection? He couldn't even justify if there was a connection between them, even if it was pure fact that he hadn't killed her when he'd had the chance near Times Square. Instead, he'd aimed at the Amazon...her enemy, his enemy.

"Nothing. There was no evidence at all left behind. I do find it strange that both you and I were targeted specifically. We've gotta stay on our toes, even now, someone could be watching us, waiting for an opportunity to strike."

His answer was entirely believable. She found herself cautiously eying the bartender, the other patrons at the Skybar, and even the salt and peppershakers. She was suddenly intensely paranoid, and forgot all about her inquisition. Initially, she intended to discover the secret about that vampire that he'd encountered at Pro-Kredz, but currently she was again gracious for his analytical eyes.

"Can we enjoy this exquisite raspberry and strawberry sorbet without thinking of work?" He asked, handing her a tiny metal spoon. After, he shocked her by feeding her a mouthful of whipped cream. She laughed so hard that flecks of cream landed on his fancy suit, making him jump to his feet.

"Warn a girl first huh?" Dr. Rashidli laughed, preparing a heaping spoonful of strawberry for him. Immediately, his mood relaxed, and he wasn't even angry about the spots on his gray suit. Gingerly, he accepted her spoonful, indirectly becoming locked in an intense staring match with her chocolate hued eyes.

For the first time in ages, Syfy realized how sexy Nadira Rashidli was. Her eyes were catlike in appearance; black eyeliner only framing them even more beautifully than he thought was possible. Her lashes were long and well defined, turning innocent blinks into sensual shows that increased his heart rate. Her cheeks were high and wonderful, surrounding a sharp, but otherwise flawless nose. When his eyes fell to her full lips, he changed his mind and returned to her captivating irises. There were only mere inches between her lips and her cleverly displayed cleavage, which somehow remained tasteful. Her black cocktail dress forced his imagination to run a marathon. If she stood up, God help him. She was a beautiful woman.

"Did you hear me?"

Syfy snapped out of his haze, only to realize that she had leaned in closer to him, ensnaring one of his hands with hers. They were smaller, definitely more delicate, but ultra-soft. He dropped the spoon in his right hand, and it clanged loudly from the table to the tiled floor below. The echo made several people glance his way, but to him, they didn't exist.

"I'm sorry, what was it?" He uttered sheepishly, unable to draw his hand away from her. He really didn't want to.

"I said are you ready to go back to work now? We've been here for a few hours you know? Plus you've been staring at an empty container, we tore up that dessert." She smiled, and for once, he was drawn into a corner. He stuttered and apologized again, agreeing that it was time to return to work. He pulled out his chair and started to stand, finding that his lower limbs were unusually unstable.

"Wait, you've got something..." She didn't finish, instead she flung herself carefully across the table, giving him a quick kiss centimeters away from his mouth, licking the offending sugary treat away. She stood up and walked away, making sure to tip the bartender from her leather purse. Nadira refused to regret what she had done, and her stomach wouldn't stop doing backflips when she imprinted his surprised face in her mind. Soon it would be back to the office and her life would revolve on the supernatural, but for as long as her body would let her, she'd never forget it.

"You gotta admit the Skybar was a pretty classy choice." Onyx laughed, while Aisha scoffed at him.

"It's cliché, their food selection is boring, and the circular bar is totally irrelevant." She countered, changing the television channel. She had no idea how Onyx had suckered her into watching a half an hour television segment based solely on the dating life of the President of the Nexus's branch of SPECS. He shot her a secret smirk however, perhaps realizing that whether she expressed it or not, she wanted to eat there one day herself. Aisha admitted that she did need the relaxation though, for she could barely move any of her muscles at all. She tried describing the situation to Onyx, but he couldn't possibly understand the amount of strain Amara had put on her.

"My training today was hellish! I had to pull a conductor's train for Amtrak for seven hours without a break! Channeling chi to different parts of my body, my ass!" She groaned when he turned to look at her, which moved the couch cushion she was sitting on. Pain flared from the base of her spine to the crown of her head. She was tapped out, both physically and mentally. There was also something more innocuous and innocent about his proximity that did other things to her. She wasn't sure if she liked those things or not.

"Well it's a good thing this couch expands into a pullout futon." Onyx chortled. She would have hit him if she could, but she was unable to move. The least she could do was come back at him with a snarky comment, but her mind didn't even possess that capacity. "Are you sure you need this for whatever tournament you're entering? I've seen you spar seriously with Blade, could there really be competitors out there that are on par with that?" Onyx pulled out the bed for her, making sure that she was relaxed and had a fresh glass of juice on the table adjacent to the couch, before awaiting her reply. Aisha was so stunned by his selfless and concerning actions that it took her a full minute to answer him. She didn't miss his compliment though, and was grateful that he'd offered it.

"I'm not sure myself, but it could do me some good I suppose. According to her, being a gladiator is an entirely different world. There are rules, regulations and special combat moves that just aren't practical in the everyday struggle for survival." Without realizing it, she began to babble. He didn't interrupt her even once, which made her curious. Why was he being so nice to her?

"How much longer until the big debut?"

"Four days or so of training remain." Aisha answered him. She downed her entire glass of juice and continued talking until she fell asleep.

"That girl is something." Onyx spoke, while tucking the covers neatly around her. He had to admit, he'd definitely lost track of time while listening to her complain about her training. Blade's words about settling down returned to his mind, but he shooed them away. Since he couldn't sit still enough to bear watching the television any longer, he left the base and made his way to a local shooting range, the owner greeting him as soon as he walked in.

"Set em up Larry, triple reps today." Onyx spoke, while the older white man laughed. He adjusted his ten-gallon cowboy hat, and left the room, calling out to Onyx from behind his counter.

"Pick your poison." Larry yelled.

"I'll take a .22." Onyx called back.

"This little bitch? Feelin' in touch with your feminine side today huh?" Larry snorted, nevertheless presenting Onyx with the gun.

"That's the first thing on my list to kill." Onyx retorted, walking with Larry to the back of the building, where there were ten booths set up for shooting. There were two other people deeply engaged in target practice, a short, yet muscular kid that couldn't have been a day over nineteen, and a middle-aged woman with mousy hair. Neither of them were doing any good.

"Show me if you've got the balls to lay waste to that side of you." Larry challenged. Onyx didn't waste any more time, shooting away the pieces of himself with ease.

Panther jabbed straight and pierced the eye sockets of a bulky robot that had attempted to burn him to a crisp. With a flick of his wrist, powerful claws tore the head from the body. He crouched into a feline run, and then pounced, avoiding two homing missiles, which smashed into each other. Using the body of another bot, Panther dodged a buzz saw arm, and split his opponent in two as well. His eyes were glowing a mixture of yellow and green, and his muscles were rippling with raw power. Without even trying, he was able to scale a brick building, much faster than Spiderman could have done. An army of robots was at his tail, and he knew it was his duty to destroy them all before they could harm any other innocents.

He leaped through the air, landing perfectly on a wrecking ball attached to an unmanned crane. Using his weight and momentum, he guided the weapon into a flock of robots that had flown in pursuit of him. None of them survived the collision. Panther looked out into the city sunset. T'Challa was one who he refused to disappoint, along with his mentor Lee Nixon. If he had to fight as a panther to complete his life's mission, then he would. The gauntlets on his arms moved as if alive, but when Panther looked them over, they were motionless. He took seconds longer to appreciate their fine artisanship, and the fact that they fit his hands snugly, before launching into the sky again. He was the air, he was the earth, and he was a spirit. Nothing could take that from him.

"Where the hell is he going?" Trigger called back to Aiden, who rode in the single sidecar of the motorcycle. His partner could only shrug as they watched their leader scale another building with ease. It may just have been a trick of their eyes, but they swore they saw a shiny black tail follow him. Together, they raced down the suburbs of the eastern side of the Nexus, traffic becoming more and more of a problem. After a while, Trigger could no longer accurately follow Panther, but had to guess which way he would turn until receiving confirmation in the form of another inhuman leap. What made it even harder was that the sun was going down, and Panther left little to no trail at all behind him. What should have been damaged fire escapes, broken ladders and scratched ledges were their perfect, untraceable counterparts. Trigger cursed after five minutes of not spotting anything. This would be more difficult than he imagined. Not only did they have to track Panther down, they eventually would have to capture him somehow and return him to the base. It would've been a snap if E-Bon, the dedicated creature that only responded to Panther's commands, would help them, but it was a hopeless effort.

"Turn left." Aiden directed, and Trigger swerved to avoid an oncoming Nissan. True to his word, they found Panther stalking an unknown prey next to a Ben and Jerry's shop.

"Stay quiet." Aiden ushered, climbing out of the vehicle. This and many more attempts afterward each failed, exhausting the pair further and further until they couldn't track him anymore.

"What do we tell Angela?" Trigger asked. Despite his usual brash nature, his voice was full of worry. Beside him, Kokei shrugged, bending down to tie his shoes, which had become tangled after several sprints after their wayward commander.

"I guess we'll have to watch and wait." He replied cryptically, continuing to tie the same lace again and again.

"You mean I have to tell her don't you?" Trigger kicked some dirt with his boot.

"You got it."

"Seven thousand on six, black." Angela told the dealer, who laughed straight in her face. He dropped the ball in the roulette and spun it quickly for the dozens of faces gathered around it. During this time, he adjusted his bowtie, announcing the odds again for the top bidders. When he came to scrutinizing how foolish Angela's bet was (on a 50 number system), laughter erupted from his carefully tucked belly. His jaw dropped when the ball landed directly in the spot labeled six. Needless to say, the section of roulette was completely black.

"Looks like your odds are a load of bull wouldn't you say?"

Angela whipped around to see a barrel chested Indian man congratulating her on her prize. He puffed on a fat cigar, which smelled of decaying mushrooms. After observing her for a few more games of roulette, which she profited on, whether great or small, he decided that she was good enough to play high-stakes poker with 'the fellas'. Angela wasn't intimidated. In the past, she was known as The Grim of Spades, not simply for her guile and cunning when it came to competitive card games, but also at her skill in gambling. It was a lifestyle the Vampire Human War had erased fifteen years ago, and one she only returned to when she was intensely upset. Having a lover and a leader going off the walls and missing was enough to have her want to pull the locks out from the roots. She was pretty sure that qualified as a sufficient amount of grief.

"Eyes to the front, peasant." Angela snapped, embarrassing him a good deal before he led her to a room in the back, through a heavily fortified door. He'd introduced himself as King Largo, and knew that he'd publicly taken a hit to his ego. Angela knew the game, and the secrets of what high-stakes really meant. There was a high probability that she'd _accidentally _dropped a small capsule, almost invisible to the naked eye, which would explode the moment her voice activated it. She never walked into a casino ill prepared.

"What can we do for you little lady? King Largo talks highly of you and your assets." The man was the darkest shade of black she'd ever seen on a person. He wore a muddy brown fedora cocked too far forward, and as he grinned, she was reminded of a Doberman. While he appeared lean and strong for a man that was at least 53, he was too straightforward, and his cockiness made him out to be more of a dog than he already looked. She could see the invisible slobber dribble down his chin while he gave her a slow once over. Angela sat down quickly, crossing her arms over her full chest. She wore a loose fitting half top that would've exposed her belly if it weren't for the trendy black and white track jacket that enveloped her torso. She wore light black leggings that ended in slightly over worn Reebok tennis shoes. Overall, she looked more like a street urchin than a high roller. It was all part of the act though. There were five men at the roundtable that she joined, all of them older than she was. She'd bet all of the cash in her savings account that not one of them thought she belonged in the room, and neither of their eager faces expected her to leave the room untouched. Alas, she'd bait them a little, because that was the way the game worked. In the end, no one would be killed, and she'd leave The Temporal Crossroads a richer woman. Outside she rejoiced, but inside she cried. Her winnings would mean nothing but sadness unless Trigger and Aiden were able to find him.

That night, Blade arrived to an eerily quiet base, where Onyx was snoring soundly, and Aisha was in a light sleep. When he appeared in the main living room area, she shifted in her sleep, edging her fingers closer to her dual katanas, which were only an arm's length away. Other than that, she showed no signs of moving.

"It must've been pretty bad huh?" Blade spoke to the air, heading toward his personal chamber. No one responded. When he arrived in his room, he fastened the bolt lock in place, and logged into his laptop, answering a Skype call no sooner than his computer had fully booted up. It was 10:00PM and Gabriel Van Helsing was punctual if nothing else. The older man's face popped onto the screen. Blade idly massaged his temples, because he knew what was coming.

"Security verification." Gabriel spoke, pulling out a pair of silver glasses and setting them on his face. Though he hadn't said anything else, Blade was already annoyed. Who else could he be other than the notorious Day-walker?

"What is the least number of people required to fill a room such as so that the probability of at least two people having the same birthday is greater than fifty percent?"

Blade cursed, and retrieved a notepad, a calculator and a pencil. He had halfway expected this.

"Twenty three." He spoke evenly after five minutes.

"What gets wetter as it dries?" Gabriel asked, after an eccentric nod.

"A towel."

"Finally, in a game of Russian roulette, I have loaded my favorite revolver with two consecutive bullets in the chamber, spinning the barrel randomly. The remaining four remain empty. If I hand you the gun and you shoot yourself without succeeding in suicide, do you spin again randomly, or take another shot at yourself if you want a better chance to live?" Gabriel's baby blue eyes watched him intently.

Blade sketched a diagram, pondering over the possibilities before answering.

"I'll have a .08 percent better chance of surviving if I take another shot, for spinning the barrel would give me a two out of six chance at death, or one third. If I shoot again, since the first didn't go off, only one of the four empty slots could produce a suicide and thus a one out of four chance at death. I'll take those odds." Blade concluded with a grin.

"What's up man?" Gabriel chimed, discarding the unnecessary glasses. His face was bright with an indomitable happiness.

"We still good for tomorrow afternoon?" Blade asked simply. There was no point in playing any more mind games; he'd had enough of those already.

"The barbeque is still on, of course." Gabriel verified. "The entire church will be in attendance." He assured Blade, who nodded.

"I'll be bringing two guests; one of course will be very interesting for you to see."

"I've heard all about her," Gabriel added without pause. "Can't believe you have another ally huh? It's been years hasn't it?"

"Some things don't change." Blade spoke with finality, before bidding Gabriel adieu. He then rested on his king sized bed. Before slipping off into the darkness, he glanced at a single pair of spiked brass knuckles, which he kept in a crystallized display case.

"Makoto." He hadn't uttered that name in a long, long time.

Tiffany let out a sigh, continuing to comb her newly shortened hair while watching the boring comedy movie. Plane service was terrible, even in first class. She really shouldn't have been complaining. For the past few days, she'd been subjected to merciless torture of both her body and mind; probed and mentally raped for all the information she knew regarding Blade, and then was tossed away to find more and prepare for what Vladimir had to come. A nasty scowl crossed her face as she thought of the Japanese woman named Akane. There was a long-lasting burning hate that mirrored that of her daughter, except Akane shouldn't have been in the equation. With Aisha, she was the one who'd walked in and swept Onyx away, to the same likeness, Akane materialized out of the blue one day and suddenly was Vladimir's right hand. Tiffany hated that.

She ordered some kind of fancy alcohol laced with blood and tried to relax. Her body was adjusting as the plane crossed time zones to return to the United States. There were less than ten passengers aboard, and none of them would speak at all. Two of them were considered exponentially more important than her. One of them had an Egyptian dog's head which obscured his entire face, the other was marred head to toe with scars, and had a left hand that had been amputated in the past and replaced with a shiny hook, which would have been illegal in any public airline. With two of the greatest vampires in this generation onboard, she should have felt much safer, yet something was eating at her deep inside. In her stomach, she could feel that something was wrong, but there were no thoughts to clarify her feelings.

"Touchdown in seventeen hours." The pilot announced over the PA system. The breath caught in Tiffany's throat as the dog head turned her way.

"Your fear is unwarranted." He spoke, though it was impossible to tell his facial expression or if his lips were moving or not. The exchange put worms of unease in her belly, and for some reason, she dry heaved right then and there. The other vampire said nothing, and had turned to face the front again, sitting as still as a statue, ten rows ahead of her. She was going to be sick.

Tiffany decided to chance a glance outside of the window, but there were much too many clouds in the sky for her to make out anything. On a sigh, she accepted that the remaining hours until her arrival in the Nexus would be uneventful and mundane.

Keiji scowled when Lucius entered the room, with his glittering silver coat. In their pack, collectively known as Sutonokami, Lucius would be the third in command, yet the one also hungriest for a position of power. The pack treated everyone equally, yet Lucius was the only one that felt otherwise. He gave Keiji a once over, then nodded in respect as he shifted back into human form. Though shirtless, Lucius had the decency to scoop up a pair of his denim shorts lying nearby.

"What'd you find?" Keiji practically barked, whipping out a cigarette and lighting it promptly. The room was already clouded with a thick mist of smoke, because another wolf was also smoking to his heart's content. Lucius smirked in reply, and turned to the other wolf instead, who regarded him as a correctional officer would a delinquent.

"Vampires have been on the move plenty lately, even going so far as to off their own." At this Lucius laughed, a rich and full noise that didn't exactly fit his look. He was solidly fifty years old, with thick gray hair that overshadowed his face and rippling muscles everywhere. There was a single, long, jagged scar running down the length of his back diagonally. Legend had it that Lucius had been struck there by lightning on the day he first transmuted into a werewolf, but it was impossible to be sure. Most just agreed upon it instantly. Werewolves didn't live that long in the western hemisphere, especially with the many organizations rising in technological prowess. Werewolves were under the radar, but feared even more than vampires were. It was one thing to have one's humanity stolen from them, but an entire other thing to live knowing you would be stuck in between the worlds of the paranormal and the normal. Unless you fit the paranormal immediately, then both sides would hate you. With vampirism, it was exceptionally easy to integrate into the supernatural world. Werewolves were different.

"Tell me more." The senior wolf commanded, making Lucius flinch. There was no possible way for him to disobey.

"Two of the great five have been slaughtered in the underground tournament. Someone's getting greedy, and wants the others dead. The three that remain are Lucia Noblesse, Minerva De L'Soudofuje, and Impresia Vela. One of them is the key. One of them knows where they took Kryzon, where they're keeping him subdued." Lucius finished, lighting up with a wolf-headed lighter bursting with blue flames. Each member of the pack had one of their own, and each member smoked religiously.

The head wolf bowed, as if considering some hidden knowledge on the subject. He had heterochromia iridium, one of his piercing eyes was a sky blue rimmed with orange, while the other eye was its exact inverse. When angry, his eyes both shifted into an orange hue, and at that point, it wouldn't be wise for anyone to be near him. "What do you think?" The leader asked Lucius, who was more than ready to offer his input.

"I think that bitch Lucia knows something. She's too reserved, isolated even when she makes public appearances. With that much money at her belt, I wouldn't put it past her that she'd want even more."

"Money is irrelevant." The leader snapped, mentally smacking Lucius across the face from the other side of the room. The result was tangible and visible to everyone else in the room. "The three you spoke of are all millionaires, so that reason alone is preposterous. What do you say Warwolf? What are the stars telling you?"

The four wolves, including Keiji, turned to the front of the wooden shack, where a werewolf sat, deep in meditation, purple wisps of smoke floating around him with purpose. They knew that it wasn't merely smoke that surrounded him. The technique was an ancient one used for defense and took an immense amount of concentration to maintain. Warwolf came from a long line of Stargazers, and as such, was the oracle of their group. If he'd wanted, he could easily dethrone Kaiser and become Alpha of the pack himself, but according to him, that wasn't what the great planet Mars wanted. Warwolf worshipped it. Upon hearing Kaiser's voice, one of his wolven eyes snapped open, revealing a deep fuchsia orb.

"Mars has increased its revolution speed around the sun by five percent. An age of war is soon to befall the Nexus, and all will be trapped in its wake, both human and inhuman. However, the war isn't just local, it is international. Our friend has been taken away from the United States. Lastly, it is foolish to assume that Lucia is the culprit behind this. We cannot move forward until we know for sure, and right now, we do not know. The best thing to do would be to prepare for the local war, because its arrival will directly correlate with Kryzon's whereabouts."

"And Blade?" Kaiser asked, before Warwolf could close his eye. Warwolf himself was a man of few words, and stayed transformed for most of his entire life. That too, was controlled by the planet Mars. Unless the planet was visible in the night sky, Warwolf had no choice but to remain a wolf. Not that he minded though, he considered it to be a great honor to be unbound by the restrictions the moon placed on some wolves. With Keiji, Kryzon, and Lucius, their transformations could only occur after dusk. Kaiser was an exception to this, as his unique birth conditions permitted him to shift between the two species at will, no matter what. He was the closest thing on the planet to a Day-walker, and Warwolf wasn't surprised that he'd asked about his vampire counterpart. In any case, he would respond. On a deep exhale, red fumes exited his snout, causing the surrounding smoke to swirl quickly.

"Blade is balancing on the tip of a razor while searching for his own answers. If he allows it, he could be the force to end the world. Whether you realize it or not, his fight is also our fight. We seek to rescue one of our own, taken captive by a vampire."

At this, Kaiser spat on the ground, cursing the bloodsucker race hatefully. He quickly shut his mouth however, because any further provoking would anger Warwolf, and Kaiser knew when to tuck tail and show respect. This was not a time to bare fangs.

"As I was saying, we seek to rescue one of our own. He seeks to save humanity from vampires, humans that he considers as his own." At that, Warwolf's eyes closed, and he went back into his silent trance. No one dared mess with him after that. Keiji took this opportunity to speak up.

"I think we should continue attending. Watching explicitly for game changing decisions on who lives or who dies. Let's find the dissident and catch them in the act. Then and only then will we be able to pay them a visit to make sure. We'll have Kryzon back in no time."

Kaiser nodded subtly, and even Lucius expressed his assent. There were only a few more days remaining until the next batch of participants arrived. They would be ready. Watching and waiting. Waiting for the right time to tear out someone's throat.

"Did I really have to dress up man?" Onyx complained, pinching at his button up black dress shirt. Blade himself was unarmed for once, except for the long sword, which he wore at his side today instead of on his back. It was a rare sight, for neither Aisha nor Onyx had ever seen him wear it that way.

"Kind of perplexing that we're going to a church for this event." Aisha spoke definitively. She strutted forward, seeming pretty excited. She wore a long overcoat topped with fur, which she hooded around her long black hair. Sunlight or not, the material was very warm, and she was grateful. Unlike both of the men, who'd adopted a semi-formal look, she'd bundled up quite nicely.

"You guys gonna backtalk and be at my throat all night over some good barbecue? That's a damn shame. You must've been eating out so much that you've forgotten what good food actually tastes like." Blade shook his head and turned the corner, passing the front of Bank of America Tower. The address Gabriel had given him was less than a mile away now, and even though he kept vigilant at all times, Blade couldn't help but think that someone was watching him. He had the bad feeling that something was definitely going to go down.

They crossed a few more streets, blending in with large groups of pedestrians, and reached the church, entitled St. Isodore's Home for the Lost. He walked around the front of the building and opened a large wooden door, which was connected to a great fence that ringed three more acres of land behind the church. Blade hadn't had the door halfway open when the scent of baby back ribs punched him directly in the stomach. His mouth watered and he almost became weak at the knees. Behind him, Onyx was having a similar reaction, his stomach gurgled so loudly at the sensual assault that it was embarrassing.

There were two tents set up, an intense game of horseshoes being played, and tables upon tables of food as far as the eye could see. At the end of the fenced in expanse, was a small graveyard, which scarcely contained twelve headstones. That was the only contrast to the boisterous, excitement-filled atmosphere. Even the grass seemed greener in the muffled sunlight. Blade searched left and right, until he spotted Gabriel, who acknowledged him with a wave. He was in a wheelchair.

"Stay calm you two, I've got this." Blade assured, striding forward to meet the elderly man. Aisha followed at a distance, but suddenly regarded everything with a healthy level of paranoia. She smelled at least five different types of gunpowder, and enough silver to kill her fifty times over. Just what exactly had they walked into?

Onyx shrugged, walking behind Aisha with his hands stuffed into his jeans. From what he saw, no one looked to be under the age of forty, and certainly not fast enough to take him down. He was craving the food right now, and if that meant a party with senior citizens, he'd make the most of it. There was a thick stack of pork chops with his name cemented inside of them.

Gabriel set the familiar silver glasses on his face once Blade was within earshot.

"I see you have guests!" He practically shouted, blue eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Bring it on Gabriel." Blade responded. Stopping inches away, leaving Gabriel to stroke his lengthy beard. He wore a cowboy hat atop his head, which was even stranger since his shirt was purely tie-dyed. His cargo pants were more or less shorts, and he wore sandals though it was 55 degrees outside at best. Gabriel could get no stranger than he already was.

"You pass the runner in second place just before you cross the finish line in a twenty mile marathon. What place did you finish in?"

"First place obviously?" Onyx chimed in, but Blade blocked him with an outstretched arm.

"Second place. In a race, you assume the position of the runner you pass. In order to win, you would have had to pass the first place runner, regardless of physical position in the race." Blade received a head nod, but Gabriel wasn't done.

"A girl lives in a home with her parents. There is a cellar door in her home, which her parents warn her to never, ever open, because she is not ready to see what is on the other side. What is on the other side of the cellar door?" Gabriel cocked his head to the side after finishing. Other men nearby turned their heads to face them. A few of them had curious looks; some faces were strictly morbid. That's when the answer hit Blade.

"I think I like this guy." Aisha grinned, having fashioned an acceptable answer in her head. Her paranoia dissolved and she took full interest in the man with the riddles.

"Only one security verification is needed, white lily, no spoilers now." Gabriel directed this at Aisha, who turned beet red in the face.

"I so have!" Aisha yelled back, but she was ignored. Gabriel had turned his attention back to Blade, who was still pondering the answer. Onyx was dumbstruck.

"The rest of the house and the outside world. The girl has been locked in the cellar her entire life." Blade answered. Gabriel grinned, showing a few missing teeth that were otherwise very well-tended to.

"Last one, Day-walker." Gabriel began, his voice uncharacteristically insidious. "It is in the form of a game, follow me." Gabriel wheeled over to an empty glass table, perfectly shaped like a circle. Gabriel then extracted a gigantic bag of pennies and explained to Blade that the name of the game was to take turns placing quarters on the table without stacking them. "Do you want to go first or second?" Gabriel asked, placing the bag on the ground. He had Blade take a seat, along with Aisha and Onyx. Around them, a small crowd had formed. Men from many different generations surrounded the table, talking in hushed whispers. Blade refused to be distracted. He chose to go first, and after the third move, Gabriel conceded defeat.

"Why'd you do that?" Onyx asked Gabriel, who put away his glasses. Blade was receiving claps on the back, and being introduced to men left and right who were all from the same family: the Van Helsings. Aisha answered before Blade.

"If he went second, he would have instantly lost. The key was to go first and set a penny in the exact center of the table. From there, all Blade had to do was copy every one of Gabriel's moves on the opposite side of the table. Eventually, Gabriel would have no choice but to stack a penny, and since Blade went first, it would not be his turn to place a penny."

Onyx nodded his head, but still didn't get the entirety of the riddle.

"Help yourself, help yourself!" Gabriel bellowed, catching Onyx eying more food marinated with barbecue sauce. "Daniel, come show the man a good time. Get him a nice big plate."

"Aye aye sir!" Daniel responded with a squeaky voice. He reminded Blade oddly of the man he'd heard singing hymns in the hospital. He had blond hair and a boyish smile that made him look years younger. Aside from his height, which exceeded six feet, he could have been the youngest Van Helsing there. Onyx happily followed him to the tin trays that were appropriately filled to the rim with different delicacies. Aisha had remained at the table with Blade, though she was talking animatedly with Michael Van Helsing, who seemed to know every facet of their family's history. As fast as words traveled from her mouth, Michael responded in kind, enrapturing her with the fantastic tales of the vampire-hunting family. When he brought up Noah Van Helsing, Blade silenced him with a scowl, which only enhanced Aisha's curiosity. Soon, she started to pester Michael about it, so much so that he left the table, leaving Aisha sulking, crossing her arms over her chest.

The wind picked up, and inside one of the tents, the men had begun an archery tournament. Blade chose to stay outside, while Onyx went inside to watch.

"Vladimir Drovsky, tell me you have a lead on him." Blade spoke in a hushed whisper. Gabriel's age showed on his face when he shrugged his response.

"His reach is global, but there is no concrete location from which we can track him." Gabriel whispered back. He beat his fist on the table. "I heard about Jason Normandy, you're collecting his artifacts in order to lure him out of hiding aren't you? Blade, normally I would support something like this, but do you remember how Times Square ended? Hundreds dead, thousands injured, not to mention SPECS suddenly has battle mechs roaming the streets? How easy would it be for an errant bullet to pierce your heart and end your mission?"

"I took it down alone." Blade countered, though it sounded childish even to him. Gabriel was speaking with more wisdom than he had at that moment.

"How hard was that? I'd be willing to stake my life that if there were three of them that you would've died that night. Listen, if you are hunting the artifacts, there are two swords of notable renown that I could possibly direct you to, for a price."

Blade squinted his eyes. Money wasn't really a concern with him, and though he wasn't rich, he had a considerable amount of wealth stored in a couple different banks both stateside and internationally. The problem was that Gabriel could make a completely unreasonable demand, yet Blade would meet it instantly. His mission was to save the world; money was already ruining it.

"What do you want?" He asked. Aisha leaned closer, though she wasn't part of the conversation.

"Fetch Onyx, that's what you called him right? I want to arm wrestle him."

Blade's jaw dropped at the request, but reluctantly brought Onyx outside of the tent. The sun suddenly blazed brightly overhead, forcing Aisha to further pull the hood over her head. She wasn't hungry for anything, but hadn't considered the trip to be a waste. The history of the Van Helsings was fascinating to say the least, and if she tried coaxing Michael a little harder, she might even gain insight to a piece of Blade's past.

Onyx returned, bringing a full party of men with him.

"Set us up Peter." Gabriel gestured, wheeling away from the circular glass table. A stout, olive-skinned man with a sleeveless vest on grunted, disappearing inside of the church's basement. While Onyx was asking Blade what all the fuss was about, Peter returned with a freshly polished mahogany table. He set it down in between Gabriel and Onyx.

"You want me, to arm wrestle him?" Onyx laughed, making those around him shake their heads in pity. He placed his right elbow on the table, realizing moments later that there was a deep groove in the table where hundreds of other elbows had been before his. Gabriel placed his right elbow in a similar groove, and locked Onyx in a steel grip. Onyx almost cried at the strength already being exerted on him.

"I'll referee." Amused, Blade turned his head toward James Van Helsing, who had the build of a competent tactician. James placed his hairy hands over the deadlock between Onyx and Gabriel. Blade observed Onyx's arm, which was already shaking. Veins were bulging from his arm and sweat was already beading on his brow. On the other side of the table, Gabriel sat relaxed, comfortable in his wheelchair. James counted down and then released both of their hands. Onyx struggled for less than fifteen seconds before Gabriel slammed his hand down. The Van Helsings around them roared, several of them taking swigs of bottled beer. Aisha's face twisted into one of dismay. Perhaps she'd put too much faith in Onyx.

"Looks like you won't know after all Blade, your boy couldn't cut the mustard." Gabriel taunted. He didn't expect Aisha to rise from her seat.

"Let me avenge him!" She shouted, much louder than she'd wanted. At this, Gabriel closed his eyes, thinking aloud.

"You randori right?" He asked Aisha, who quickly confirmed that she did. Randori was an exercise. It was basically sparring practice in Judo, where the first person thrown to the ground was the loser.

"Well, let's get you a gi. Paul, make sure hers fits snugly, she's going up against Abraham." Gabriel instructed. Within ten minutes, the whole party had gathered in the second tent, which reminded Onyx of a circus. Bleachers surrounded a dirt floor with a white ring in the center. As they entered, Abraham and Aisha walked dead center, while Japheth, one of the closest descendants of Noah Van Helsing bellowed the rules out through an alarmingly loud megaphone. Blade watched with absolute earnest. The Van Helsings were well equipped to deal with vampires, even modern day ones, but Aisha was different from them. She had her head screwed on tight, and wouldn't be fighting for just herself. She was also fighting for Onyx's pride. Blade knew that she wouldn't lose, as soon as the whistle blew.

Aisha tore at Abraham's gi until she found a hold behind the collar of her neck. She jerked to try to gain an advantage, but he weighed twice as much as she and didn't budge. Within half a minute, he had her gripped tightly, forcing her to employ fancy footwork, less he choke her with her own gi. The crowd roared at every moment a throw was about to be executed. Aisha had gotten to the final stages of several ippons, but at the last second, Abraham dove in with the perfect counter. She knew it was rigged. Out of the entire family, she knew he must've been at least a Rokudan1 black belt or above. Yet she refused to let him sweep her to the ground. If she'd learned anything in her years of training, it was that size meant nothing when it came to defensive martial arts such as judo and jujitsu. She weaved left to avoid a thick arm, then snaked her leg around his, trying to floor him. Abraham didn't take the bait.

He flipped her over his shoulder, and Aisha knew her back would hit the ground. It was over. She hurtled through the air, and then remembered something about judo. It didn't have to end with a back on the ground. She dug her nails into his gi, and clenched her teeth together. The next move, which shocked them all, took all her strength. Had she not braced herself for impact and clenched her teeth together, the throw would have knocked the wind out of her, but she was prepared. Arching her back, she used the momentum of the throw to lift Abraham off the ground with her feet. She kicked him backward, and he let go of her gi in confusion. When he thudded against the ground, a small cloud of dust rose. The crowd was completely silent. Aisha rose to her feet to find Onyx in the stands hollering for her. Blade stood next, applauding generously, and then one by one, the Van Helsings acknowledged her victory. Gabriel even clapped in his seat.

"So what were you saying about these weapons?" Blade asked fifteen minutes later. The barbecue was cut short due to a generous amount of rain falling from the sky. They'd stayed to help pack up, but Blade was done with the games. He'd come for intel, and he would get it.

"Ah yes," Gabriel began. The Van Helsings had traded outside sports for the indoors, traitorously watching a flat screen plasma in the game room in the church. Football was universal, and kept everyone packed in one room. Aisha, Onyx, Blade and Gabriel were in the church's kitchen, away from the hubbub. "There's one final thing I need, and that is for your two friends to kiss. Isn't the romance blossoming between them amazing? It reminds me of my youth." Gabriel mused, lost to thoughts in his head of younger years. Blade chuckled, and then hid it expertly.

"What?" Aisha cried out, blushing hardcore. Onyx jumped backward out of his seat.

"Kiss." Gabriel repeated. He wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"Blade, you can't be serious man! Fuck Vladimir, I can't do this man! The world can go to vampire hell for all I care!" Onyx raged.

"Oh so it's that bad huh?" Aisha snorted back, crossing her hands over her chest. "Well fuck you too."

"You know what? I dare you to try." Onyx blasted back, raising his fists. Aisha was on him in a second.

The two slammed into a tall, white refrigerator, in a deep, wild kiss. Static rose in the air. When Aisha pulled away, Onyx was breathless, clutching his heart with one hand, and the counter in another, less he fall from the physical and mental impact of Aisha's lips. He wanted to die; the kiss was so full of passion. He'd never felt like this in his life.

Satisfied, Aisha turned back to the two, refusing to show on her face what she felt inside. She'd wanted that kiss for a long, long time, and had finally gotten to do it. Words couldn't express how giddy she was currently.

"So about those two swords." Blade repeated, arching his eyebrow to Gabriel. Gabriel's smile was wider than his face could contain. He had no more reasons to refuse Blade now. It made him happy.

1Sixth Degree


	12. Chapter 11: Three Will Kill

**Chapter Eleven**

Beat from who knows what, yet still toting around a full belly, Onyx shuffled his feet, kicking up small pieces of gravel and making small dirt puffs shoot into the air in mini mushroom clouds. Firstly making sure he wasn't being followed, he activated the alphanumeric keypad with sixteen distinct button presses that emitted no sound. Likewise, he slipped into the base in complete silence, eying the traps around him warily. Part of him wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. Onyx arrived in the living room, finding nothing but abandoned sofas and lonely sodas on dusted glass coasters that still lay fizzing on the small rectangular coffee table. He wasn't in the mood for television, no matter how much the glossy screened plasma invited him to relax his life away. As he pushed his way through the makeshift kitchen and past the secured computer room, only one thing was on his mind, but he couldn't let it take control of him. He wouldn't.

Her lips roamed his mind continuously, along with the force at which she'd flung herself at him. He could still feel the softness of her body melding into his. As much as it pained him that a woman was in sole control of his psyche, he couldn't help but remember the slight loss of breath when slamming into that refrigerator just before she slammed into him, stealing what little air remained. He couldn't help but remember the mindboggling dizziness that came with the rush of euphoria that was greater than… shit, he couldn't even put words to it, which made him that much more frustrated. Wasn't he with Tiffany? Hadn't they had sex multiple times and claimed to be a pair? He couldn't understand it himself, but his emotions were all out of wack, and it was hard to think about it. Onyx may have been with Tiffany, but his mind wanted Aisha, and he was 100 percent certain about it.

Onyx shocked himself awake; realizing only when it was too late that he was standing in Aisha's doorway, staring at the oriental-styled room and finely crafted four-poster bed. Japanese paper lanterns hang from the ceiling, producing an alluring dim light that flickered as the seconds rolled by. He couldn't tell by looking at them, but Onyx could detect a faint scent of cherry blossoms, and concluded that the lanterns must be filled with small candles of some sort, which was impressively dangerous, considering the thin paper could set the room ablaze in minutes. It was just like Aisha. One moment, she was a shapely Japanese woman with curves that fit many a man's fantasies, the next, she had katanas at your neck ready to kill you. He liked her edge. James's eyes fell next on the pair of swords she prized so highly, one solid black katana, the other, the brightest silver sheen he had ever seen. For mere moments, he was trapped in memory of their first meeting, an arranged fight in an abandoned alleyway. He'd underestimated Aisha back then, calling her nothing but a schoolgirl, but now knew that she was far more than capable of kicking ass on the streets, in a boxing ring, and anywhere else she chose. The two swords sat unsheathed, on a wall-mounted rack under a picture of a woman who looked very similar to Aisha. She was stunningly beautiful in a holiday yukata, grinning slyly in the picture as though she had a secret. Beside Aisha's dresser, there was a heartily filled bookshelf and a computer stand, where her silver Hewitt Packard laptop hummed away, displaying a realistic raging typhoon background on a computer locked screen. Why, he didn't know, but Onyx found himself contemplating what kind of password Aisha would use for her personal devices. _Probably one with eighteen characters like the amount of strokes in the kanji for simplicity that she often draws on napkins when we go out to eat_, he thought to himself. James caught himself laughing uncontrollably on the inside and out, and when he opened his eyes, hers were fastened directly on his. Her ruby shaded eyes continued their stare for endless seconds longer, and Onyx discovered that his heartbeat was tripping over itself, skipping several beats while thumping erratically. _Was this the power of simply a look from her?_

Aisha's eyes narrowed for a second when she found out that he wasn't speaking. She supposed it was rude to continue listening to her iPod in front of him, so she removed the Skullcandy earplugs. She was listening to one song non-stop that her mother used to play for her in her childhood, but she would viciously refuse to show or tell anyone its title. She locked the screen on the device and sat with her back against the headboard. Aisha had been haphazardly lounging before he walked in, taking no care to close the curtains that surrounded her mattress. Aisha didn't want to give Onyx any more sensual images of herself than he already had. She had had enough of images branding themselves into her mind for the day. Hell, she mind as well have had an entire slideshow in her thoughts, a damn 1080p video of all things processing up there! Nevertheless, the song she'd played repeatedly wasn't helping since it was all about blossoming love, but Aisha wouldn't be swayed from listening to it. Before she could explode into a myriad of confusion, much like Onyx's current facial expression, she decided to speak out.

"What's up?" It was an entirely casual, but extremely stupid thing to say.

Onyx blinked, somehow distracted by something as simple as the way that she sat, legs crossed professionally and inaccessible. There was something sexy about that, something he couldn't exactly put his finger on. It was something he wanted to place his hands on instead, forbidden fruit. "Aisha, I wanted to talk about earlier. I wanted to talk about the kiss." He stepped into the room boldly, watching her face go from pale, to rose-colored through the formation of a deep blush. James could tell the memories were coming back hard and fast, her eyes told him as much.

"No. No. No. No. No!" Aisha rambled, talking mostly to herself as though she were crazy. She rose to her feet and strutted out of the room, pushing past Onyx while still repeating the mantra. He hadn't had the reaction time necessary to pull her back, and his words died on his lips in an ugly pile of bewildered mush. He didn't know what to do, or what to say. More frustration followed. Would they ever be able to talk about what happened?

"Why, why am I remembering it so vividly?" Aisha called to the air, dredging her knee deep into the punching bag. She'd retreated to one of the only places in the base that could truly calm her nerves, the gym. The red bag cowered away from her, and then returned, only to be met with a solid fist that blasted it in the opposite direction. Aisha tried to concentrate on more than simply attacking, remembering what Amara said to her while she pulled the lead train car for an entire day. If she focused and channeled her body's natural energy flow, it would be possible to not only strike with more crippling accuracy, but to also increase the strength of her strikes while decreasing the strain on her muscles required to perform them. Currently, the method tired her out five times faster than normal. After a disappointing session, Aisha set off to return to the locker room to change. Her black sports bra and perforated gym shorts were sticky with sweat, and deep inside she could feel her muscles quivering under a new kind of stress. She had changed out of her clothes and was about to walk into the shower room (which was much more convenient than walking all the way back to her own room) when she smelled an intoxicating scent in the air. Following her nose out of curiosity, she loped around a corner and through a door she had never seen before. There was no sign or any other notation on where it would lead, but she kept her guard up and went inside anyway. The scent was powerful here.

Blade opened his eyes as soon as she stepped into the steamy room. He watched her stand stone still for about two seconds, and then her white cotton towel fell to the floor as she drew her hands up to her lips. She was about to let out some kind of wail, but Blade halted her. He wasn't sure if it was due to the power of his mental invitation or sheer logic, but she practically jumped into the Jacuzzi. It was shaped like an oblong oval and modeled like hot springs at a resort, with enough room to seat eight people comfortably on an underwater bar that wound its way around three-quarters of the tub like a dragon. The water was instantly calming, and within the minute, Aisha found her embarrassment had long since washed away.

"Mind as well talk while you're here, I know something's on your mind." Blade said, offering her a lime green bar of soap. She accepted it graciously and began to wash with a purple cloth that she'd intended to take to the shower. Blade continued relaxing in silence, merely watching and waiting for her to enlighten him with all her problems. She wanted to do just that, but cleverly thought of a way to get through the mental haze.

"Do you miss her Blade? Do you ever miss your mother?" Aisha asked sheepishly, slowly walking across the Jacuzzi to sit near him. Amara's words about knowing Blade's mother floated back into her mind. The Amazon had been in Soho the night of the murder and grisly transformation. Amara had also been a nurse at the hospital where Blade was born. Truly, the Amazonians had an aging secret that they refused to part with, for present-day Amara still didn't look a day over thirty. Aisha plopped down rather hard next to Blade, making an unsettling splash. She couldn't look at his face. Of all the topics she could have chosen to connect with him to get her mind off Onyx, she'd chosen one of the saddest things she could muster. Suddenly, her reflection looked pitiful to her. She wanted to backhand the image, but knew it would be futile to do so. Splashing water wouldn't bring Akane to her…

"When they die by your hand, there are nothing but scattered ashes to miss, Aisha. I gauge those kinds of relationships by loss. Nothing good comes from an extended absence of family figures; the only thing I can do is feel sorry for myself. Because of me and my failures, others lose their families. Because the vampire contagion is still around, people are executed daily, and will continue to be killed as time goes on. It's been a long ways coming, and soon, my way will end. I have known it since Abraham Whistler's death, among many more. One day, my hunting days will be over. I will either become the enemy I cannot stand in order to survive, or somehow die in the process." Uttering the words brought a chill down Blade's bare spine. Now more than ever, there seemed to be a tangible presence of death in the air, as if the Grim Reaper had his sickle poised at Blade's neck that very moment. A fraction of him wanted to get emotional, as well as pass to her his legacy, but doing either would be a lost cause. If he told Aisha the task she would have to undertake and she was killed, it would be his fault. He'd known her longer than seven years, and had come to trust her as an ally and respect her as an individual. There was no denying the attachment Blade had to her, the bindings of duty strong enough for him to show her the utmost of loyalty. He also could not neglect the duality of the expectations he knew they both had for each other. Blade did not want her to die, but knew that she would one day, just like him, perhaps also fighting for the greater good. The relaxing fumes in the air no longer held any potency. The mood in the room had died, the atmosphere replaced by silence and somber expressions. Introspection took over, laughing so loudly that it bounced off the walls and inside their skulls at the same time. Blade became hyperactively aware of the feel of skin against him, observing Aisha leaning her full weight against his shoulder. The tips of her hair were drenched and floating in the water, covering her front, and she relaxed her hold on his right arm. His heart rate increased, but Blade paid it no mind. There was something more to this encounter…

"I miss my mother Blade," Aisha began, her body shaking like an earthquake at the start of a heavy rainfall that came from her closed eyes. "I miss training for her, I miss fighting for her, and I miss her smiles, her praise and all of her wisdom. I miss her love." Aisha coughed violently after the last declaration, becoming nothing more than a sobbing child next to the legendary vampire slayer. Was it not for his hold in return, she would have slipped off the seating bar and gladly drowned right then and there. There was so much pain stored up inside of her that she just kept crying. Snot came from her nose, her nails tightened and relaxed their vice grip on Blade's bicep, and soon her throat felt dry and stuffed with cotton. It hurt to cry, but she felt like she needed it. Aisha knew that she needed it.

"Akane Koga." Blade uttered, letting her mother's name hang in the air like a physical entity. "Where could she be now?" He knew that Aisha could not hear him over the sound of her bawling. He knew that the young woman's mind must have been swirling with thousands of other miseries, for like him, she had experienced heavy losses in her lifetime. The most debilitating, yet powerful connection between them still remained. Both of them didn't have a choice in having their humanity stolen from them. At the same time however, both had decided to take up a righteous cause, despite being cursed by the very ones they wanted to protect. Perhaps it was fate, or some higher power that demanded their paths to cross. As Blade's thoughts wandered away from himself and onto Aisha's mother, he couldn't help but feel like he was the wrong person to do this, that despite the perfect circumstances, the judgment free zone, and the ability to share deep personal information with each other; he shouldn't have had his arm around Aisha. It should have been Onyx. Life sure had the most twisted sense of humor.

"Who are you?" Nadira Rashidli asked her monitor. Enhanced as much as digitally possible, she could see the intruder, even if there was a huge glare on the picture. _Thank God for laser cameras and Photoshop_, Nadira smiled internally. A woman who appeared to be younger than twenty-five, with long, silky black hair and enticing red eyes stared back at her from the screen. She was definitely a vampire, but did her face match the voice sample that Dr. Rashidli had captured from Syfy in that alleyway a few weeks ago?

Dr. Rashidli pulled up another screen with a picture that was staggeringly similar. She'd hacked the outside security camera from Pro-Kredz and replayed the footage taken the night Jonathan had visited when the store was closed. There, the very same vampire had appeared in the parking lot, searching intently for someone or something. Dr. Rashidli knew without a shadow of a doubt she had picked up Jonathan's scent and was somehow tracking him. At this realization, several revelations hit her at once, the first and foremost one being that if this was the same vampire as before, then she had had multiple opportunities to drain Syfy of all of his blood, or to turn him into one of her own, but she hadn't. As smooth and as suave as he was, Syfy hadn't been turned into a vampire. There was nothing abnormal about the way Syfy carried himself, and he surely hadn't spent three days completely off the radar in a casket somewhere. He'd be lucky if he ever got one day away from work. Dismissing the footage, she tried to synchronize the voice file from Syfy's microphone to search for any matches within the entire Nexus. The most troubling thing about it was that the clip was far too short. Even when she combined sound from an external elevator microphone that hadn't been affected by the short circuit, she only scarcely had four seconds of audio, the words 'I'll chop you into pieces'. The system turned up no possible matches for the umpteenth time, and began rescanning through millions of female faces again; turning up thousands of faces she had never seen in her life and would never see. As they flashed through, making the screen blink wildly enough to cause a photosensitive seizure, Dr. Rashidli let out a sigh that was larger than life, and then dropped her head onto her keyboard. Outside of Syfy's knowledge, she'd been working on this project for days now, but still hadn't gotten any clues about the female vampire. The only thing she had received was confirmation that Syfy deliberately held back some kind of important information about the stranger from her. The knowledge pricked her heart, but it didn't bleed much. Neither she nor Syfy was afraid of the supernatural; in fact, they eradicated it for a living. Nadira had started to doze off when a loud beeping startled her from semi-consciousness, making her knock over a large container full of paperclips onto the floor. She looked down at the mess and spat curses at it, before looking back up at the monitor.

"No freaking way, a mercenary from Vizuela? Just who is the Black Tiger supposed to be anyway?" The voice match was only 27 percent confirmed, but compared to endless streams of no results; this one had her on cloud nine. Within seconds, she had pulled up everything she could find out about the mysterious mercenary, from her latest contracts to her family tree. "Professional assassin, forcibly turned into a vampire, came here on a plane here from Beijing, mission compatibility score of 100," Nadira continued prying until a maddening grin formed on her face. After gleaning more than was necessary, she sighed, still unable to ascertain why the Black Tiger would be tracking Syfy. The only logical conclusion would be to assassinate him, or someone else in SPECS, but even that didn't make any sense. She'd had multiple attempts to do so, and had even infiltrated their building. If there were anyone else who she had her sights on within that branch of S.P.E.C.S, then they would be dead right now. She rose from her cushioned swivel chair, and sashayed out of the room, heading for the executive office. Dr. Rashidli knew he was going to hate hearing that she'd done some investigating on the matter by herself, and knew that Syfy would hate going to Vizuela even more. Mercenaries didn't exactly get along with an international organization that was well known for eradicating paranormal forces. In basic terms, SPECS was stealing Vizuela's business, well, half of it at least. While SPECS had their own police task force, they left bounty hunter acquisitions to the mercenaries since the larger threat to humanity were beings that were much more dangerous and inhuman than what the average officer could handle. Dr. Rashidli knocked on Syfy's door, and he bid her enter. It really sucked that she had to be the bearer of bad news.

Vizuela was as loud as ever, filled to the brim with raucous laughter, tinkling drinks, and music from a popular local band. The hosts were being pushed to their limits today, darting between tables like chickens without heads, stuffing their pockets with paper orders like two bit Santa Clauses. Joe was at the front of the bar upstairs in high spirits, brewing drinks that ignited fires in the soul and caused the mouth to vomit truth. There were several cliques in the lively tavern, especially downstairs, where Joe had assigned a lead hostess the floor for the night. There was quite the gathering on the lower floor, most of them from the Satsukitane family, who were celebrating their recent takeover of another clan in Japan. Ambassadors, samurai, yakuza and civilians all mixed into one big melting pot of booze and enthusiasm. That was the first floor.

"Joe what the fuck is up with these ranks man?" Sterk asked, weaving slightly in his chair. Sterk wasn't exactly drunk, but his head hadn't been screwed on all the way that night. He'd just come back from an overnight mission in Siberia, which had turned up neutral results. Sure, it ended with Sterk getting paid, but the two mercs that went alongside him hadn't made it back for the return trip. So there he was, drinking alone without his usual accompanying groupies, not because he felt sorry for the loss of his temporary teammates, but because it dragged his compatibility score even lower. If he lost a few more points, he'd lose several of his class-S titles, including the Rule of Five, which he absolutely could not afford to give up.

"There are less kills available, so there aren't many changes in the ranks my boy." Joe spoke up, taking a glance at the large poster behind him. In about a week, it would be digitized so that the ranks could be adjusted and the cash amounts changed without trouble, and he felt that he would miss the old-fashioned way people's names and ranks were displayed. He didn't have anything against technology, but the latest and greatest innovations often had a way of replacing the jobs of people that were established long before. Machines didn't need money, just electricity. They did not understand struggling to make a dollar like some humans did.

"Yeah, speak of the devil, Keiji Igasho, who is this guy? He's been ranked 50th for the past seventeen years, yet his dollar amount is enough to put him into top tier class- A. Don't fuck with me Joe, why is he still at the bottom?" Sterk beat one of his leather gloves on the bar, rattling his honey-hued drink. Joe ignored the outburst, recognizing the signs of inebriation instantly.

"Keiji Igasho is a Tracker and has the title Wirer. You know where his money goes." Joe swiftly moved Sterk's drink out of the way of another pounding of the bar.

Sterk scratched his spiky hair trying to remember. His mind was in a haze because of his excessive drinking, so he couldn't recall what the title meant, even though normally he could recall the entire mercenary code, which included all 155 titles and their requirements. "Refresh me." He asked Joe to save face, biting down on his lip.

"Wirer, the title that transfers sixty percent of your income from kills into government taxes to be disbursed in any businesses the user chooses to invest in. In addition, of the remaining forty percent of income, half of it must be payable to another living person with a valid bank account in the United States, excluding relatives. It is a title that is rarely taken, for mercenaries are all about making money as fast as possible for themselves, not giving it back to the government and other people." Joe took a walk down the bar and washed his large hands, slapping fives with a few of the patrons on the other end as they passed him hefty tips for their delicious luxuries. When he returned to Sterk Lionheart five minutes later, the man had more questions to ask.

"Aisha, how's she doing? I've noticed that she's taking less and less contracts lately. If this keeps up, she won't be able to hold onto her title as an unspeakable for long." Sterk spoke darkly, something deadly coiling up inside of him.

Joe shook his head sadly. For all of his masculine bravado, Sterk had never inquired about any of the mercenaries in Vizuela's system more than Aisha. He knew there was more caring to it than Sterk showed, but also knew that the man had regrets. While Sterk's hunting prowess was top notch, and being in the top 3 of Vizuela's bounty hunters was no easy feat, Joe knew that the mission where Sterk had requested Aisha had escalated into a typhoon of violence and unnecessary bloodshed, leading Aisha to refuse to work with him ever again. Joe himself had been married for twenty-eight years, and learned what it was like to yearn for someone else decades ago. Sterk was head over heels for a woman that he could never have, even going so far as to deny himself thoughts of such a relationship. Sterk knew he couldn't have her, yet asked about her all the time. In a way, it was funny, but in another, it was not.

"Oh I'm sure she's just biding her time," Joe began, taking a fleeting break in a barstool behind the counter. He sat his huge arms down on the table and poured himself a sparkling drink with a disappointing proof, downing it in moments. "She's one of the most requested assassins in Vizuela you know, especially with her track record and perfect compatibility score. It's a shame she's not class-A yet, I'm sure being number ten all the time is annoying and debilitating, especially since she's so close to overtaking four more people." Joe gestured back to the board again. "Daywalker must be slacking eh? Blade's been at number fifteen for a while now; his kills are becoming less and less valuable."

Sterk scoffed. Blade wasn't even on his radar. With an inferior weapon, poor anger management, and susceptibility to emotions and morals, Sterk didn't even think Blade deserved to be the Daywalker in the first place. He sure wasn't helping get rid of the contagion, only reducing numbers here and there, a pointless cause. Blade was merely a vacuum cleaner to the billions of dust mites that existed in the world. His efforts weren't enough, and probably never would be.

Syfy walked into Vizuela with his hands in his pockets. Once the door opened, several scowls blasted at him from all angles. He was scarcely able to take three steps into the establishment when condescending jeers erupted from manifold tables. Syfy instantly recognized the clan insignia for the Satsukitane family, and shook his head softly. The slight movement was a mistake though, as he found himself bumping headfirst into a man twice his size with bulky muscles and uncouth breath. A sharp shove had Syfy tumbling backward, but wasn't enough to make him fall. He stared upward into a set of piercing grey eyes, and calculated his next few moves. There were only two ways this could go.

"Whatchu gonna walk in here all big and bad you limpdick mofukka? Ain't nobody invite no military dogdick to be suppin up in here. So get out." Flecks of spit and unfinished food showered out in a miniature storm, adding severe insult to the already demeaning words. Syfy was normally vulnerable to such provocation, but had to calm himself internally. If he hadn't made contact in advance with the first floor's hostess, specifically because of potential events like this, he would've broken the man's jaw and his arm along with it. It would've been a simple task, and he wouldn't even have to touch the concealed Blunderbuss he had at his hip. The barbaric heap of flesh wouldn't even notice it was there, a gun hidden in plain sight.

At the realization that Syfy wasn't responding, instead remaining as still as a statue, the man pulled back his fist, letting out a war cry. Other members of the family turned their heads in anticipation of a brawl, which would be very, very unwise on Syfy's end. Before the man could plant his fist an inch deep into Syfy's skull, there was a blur of motion, and a woman almost the same height as him flung the man over her broad shoulders, leaving the giant dazed and out of breath on the ground behind him. Syfy gritted his teeth. It wasn't that he wasn't thankful for being saved so graciously and with precise timing, but the fact that she'd moved faster than his eye could track was unnerving. Syfy hadn't noticed the color of her hair, or the clothes she was wearing until she had already executed the Judo throw. When she rose from the exertion, she hadn't broken a sweat, and nary a purple shaded hair was out of place. She had two long bangs in the front, and the rest of her hair was styled into curly ringlets, which went down to her neck. She was wearing a scandalous version of a traditional kunoichi outfit, bound from neck down to her black two-toed tabi boots1. Her face was completely uncovered, dotted over the nose with a line of symmetrical freckles. Her lips were cracked and torn, but her eyes refused to settle on a color other than purple. She had to be wearing contacts. Aside from that, there was a kanji over her left eye that Syfy couldn't read; even so, she never opened that eye.

"Mariko Satsukitane, nice to meet you," She didn't shake his hand at all, but offered him a deep respectful bow. As was custom, Syfy bowed himself, remembering that the deeper he bowed, the more respect he would show. He'd learned that from Yuki Naga, who made it mandatory for everyone working in S.P.E.C.S to stay on top of the latest Japanese customs and ethics. Accepting his demonstration with satisfaction, she jerked her thumb to the stairs. "You'll find what you need up there, don't take long ya hear?" She turned around, sashaying back behind the counter from whence she'd come. Syfy was left staring at the orange bow tied at the small of her back, and a well-concealed tanto carefully tucked beneath her obi sash. Syfy continued his march up the stairs, and found that nary a word was spoken to him. As he gazed back upon the first floor with curiosity, he found that his assailant still lay out cold, and no one had dared to look in his direction. It was as if Mariko had the power to silence them all, which very well may have been true. Syfy took it upon himself to make a mental note of researching her. Was she a family Daimyo, or perhaps the sister of some Shogun he didn't know about?

"So what are we going to do about Salazar? You know he was part of Alivatesh don't you? By rite they're going to be after our top five for the blood price exacted." Sterk pointed out. The majority of the alcoholic effects had been alleviated with the consumption of two rib eye steaks that Joe provided him on the house. Joe gave it a moment's consideration, and then simply shrugged, wiping his hands over the bald spot in the center of his cranium.

"We'll be ready for them. Vizuela's mercenaries are among the best, and our top three, the top in over half the nation. While I feel slightly wary of our fourth and fifth ranks, it's nothing we can't take care of." Joe mused with a smirk. He drew his attention away from Sterk, who looked bored as hell. A new face had taken residence beside him, which wasn't the wisest move. While Joe hadn't seen him in person, he knew of Syfy fondly. S.P.E.C.S head executive had chosen to show his face in the tavern of a mercenary guild? The world surely was coming to an end soon.

"The Black Tiger, who is she?" Syfy asked, leaning forward on the table, cutting Joe a no-nonsense piercing stare. Beside him, Sterk laughed so hard that he almost fell out of his seat. The gigantic claymore on his back reflected light from the ceiling and highlighted all of its dangerous edges. Not only was the blade sharpened beyond perfection, the serrated edge also had several indentations perfect for rending flesh. One cut from it, and if the target remained in one piece, they bled out uncontrollably. Sterk released the claymore from its restrictive grip on his back, letting the weapon fall into his hand as he'd done thousands of times before. He turned to face Syfy, who wore a pure white police suit, probably hiding a Kevlar vest beneath the stylish exterior. It was nothing his blade couldn't shred to bits. Syfy even wore his golden badge on the outside of his overcoat in plain view. Sterk snickered. _What a cocky bastard._

Syfy pointed the golden blunderbuss at the center of Sterk's skull before things could progress any further. He reveled in the silence that followed. The entire second floor had their eyes on him, no differently than minutes before. He could detect motion behind him somewhere, but refused to back down. His finger pulled the trigger down halfway. A shot at this range would blow Sterk's head off so forcefully that his blood would be splattered on every wall of the establishment. Aim steady and finger unflinching, he waited for a response, which came from Joe instead.

"I would advise you not to shoot. You're a gentleman, are you not? The peace in my building will be upheld, or the consequences to you and your organization will be more than just severe. I believe we both know that. Besides, I'm sure you've met my gracious hostess Mariko have you not? She's standing right behind you." Joe continued, crossing his arms. Sterk relaxed after that, standing down. Even though he could feel the point of Mariko's weapon at his back, Syfy didn't lower his gun.

"What the hell do you want with her anyway?" Sterk took a quick shot of amber liquid and placed his weapon back into the complicated contraption on his back that held it in place. Syfy wasn't a dummy. He could tell that it took all of Sterk's self-control not to be at his throat, and were it not for Joe's presence, there would've been a battle. The rest of the patrons on the second floor returned to their conversations, pretending as if nothing had happened at all. Even though Sterk's attention now lay in his drink, Syfy waited another fifteen seconds before placing his weapon on safety and returning it to the hidden place at his hip. The breath he felt on the back of his neck vanished as well, which was comforting, because he could smell the tanto poised to attack only seconds before.

"As an officer of the law, what gives you the right to inquire about our members without any kind of warrant whatsoever? We are bound to a code just as strictly as you are bound to the legal system of the Nexus, so you must know this sentiment well. Am I to understand that you have some personal business with the Black Tiger? Are you conducting an investigation of some sort?" Joe's English was perfect, and free of the accent of his homeland.

Sterk snorted loudly, but didn't say anything. His presence annoyed Syfy to no end. He wished he would've shot the sword-toting bastard. One bullet in the center of Sterk's head would rid him of an annoying drunk, and a mercenary that probably only caused trouble in the streets, whether he hunted vampires or not.

"Fair enough, I do have personal business with her, and I'm requesting a simple meeting at her convenience." Syfy's poker face qualified him to compete in a world championship. His emotions were taking a weird turn on the inside, for all of the stalking she'd done to him; he was now in her shoes, trying his damnedness to arrange this meeting.

"Well as you can see," Joe started, gesturing at the wall behind him. "Our higher ranks have higher priorities than a personal meeting with the authorities. Either you get a warrant to arrange this meeting, or come up with something better than that. Most of our best travel the world weekly putting an end to any of the many vampires your agency is not capable of handling."

Syfy took the insult with a grain of salt. He was exhausting his list of legitimate reasons to arrange the conference, and would be put out of the establishment soon. He couldn't return to HQ without setting this up. In the meantime, Sterk drank his head off, but refused to move away, listening intently to their conversation. _Was there any semblance of privacy in this place?_

Sterk tapped his glass, ordering another without speaking. His rage was spiking dramatically, one second in check, the next he could see himself destroying the entire bar. As he watched Syfy probe deeper and deeper for details about Aisha, Sterk had to wonder what would a cop need with a vampire assassin? They already had the do-gooder Blade, were they trying to accept mercenaries as new recruits now? This was an all-time low. Sterk weighed the options in his mind. All he had to do was call Rule of Five, and he could kill the officer where he stood, but there was something about him caused Sterk to reconsider. While he certainly wouldn't have succeeded in a point blank shot, there was more to the cop than he showed on the outside. While pondering all of this, Sterk realized that for whatever reason, Joe had approved of a meeting and had notified Aisha. He was mortified.

"As an S-rank, I humbly request to head this meeting." Sterk slurred with a bow, accidentally banging his head on the bar. Syfy stared at him incredulously, but Joe simply nodded his head.

"Motion granted. We will have the details emailed to you promptly officer." Joe left them both then, disappearing through a set of doors leading beyond the back of the bar. Syfy knew a dismissal when he saw one, and got up to leave. He took one step, and Sterk fell to the floor, lying directly in his path, staring up at the ceiling, an enraptured look upon his face.

"Watch where you tread, you could walk straight into your death." Sterk threatened, watching Syfy take a wide, evasive step around him and then leave the bar. He tried to figure out what the officer could have said to Joe to sway him, in addition to what had made Aisha agree to the meeting in the first place. Sterk failed at both, and spent most of the night on the floor in muddled thought.

Keiji pressed on toward the meeting place on Ronnie Court. There was only one house at the dead end roundabout, one that was too familiar to him. Muted voices of the other wolves in Sutonokami whispered in the corners of his mind, but he was successfully able to ignore them. Only Kaiser had the power to pierce his current mental shutdown, and only Kaiser knew about the strange situation in which he found himself. In addition, Kaiser met him face-to-face, man-to-man, and let him know that the pack would not intervene on his behalf. It was only one vampire, so Kaiser decided that Keiji should be able to handle it alone. His Alpha's word was absolute.

He wrapped his black duster tighter around himself, even though he was burning up. Keiji's internal body temperature was never below 100 degrees. He was long used to it by now, but there was a nagging need for transformation that haunted him. He needed to stay human for this. He needed to stay human for this.

Keiji walked up the short stone driveway and knocked once on the door. He could already smell the vampire, and pinpoint her location in the crappy abode, though her aroma was more human than otherwise. She cracked the door for him and he slipped inside, plopping down on a couch, removing three layers of clothing from his torso. He knew she wouldn't mind.

"Getting kinda dusty in this bitch ain't it?" Keiji snorted, still able to see floating dust plumes from his intrusion on the couch. The girl opposite him was feeding a quiet bird, a beautiful red cardinal. It was new to him to see any semblance of color in the place. Since the first time he'd visited, the entire house was always the same shade of grey. The crumbling walls, the horribly kept furniture, the withering plants and the aging utensils were all monotonous and dull. It was hard to believe she could even get electricity in a place this dingy.

The vampire refused to speak to him until she had thoroughly filled the birdfeeder, taking a seat in a reclining chair directly across from him. She pinched her temple, before sighing and giving him a once over. Her eyes weren't red, but deep brown in color. She wasn't angry…yet. "If you've got nothing new on my son's killer, then why do you bother me and waste my time?" She made a tent with her hands and narrowed her eyes. Keiji could see past her external emotions. He could smell a tinge of disappointment in every breath she took.

"To check on my wife of course. You know I'm looking as hard as I can for clues. I'm getting closer to some heavy intel, but that doesn't mean the process is easy. What was his death fifteen, maybe twenty years ago? You don't expect this to be a cakewalk do you?" Keiji took out a cigarette and prepared to light it with his wolf-head lighter. His initials were carved into the bottom.

"Don't light it." She snapped, sending a down-to-the-bone chill across the room. Keiji flipped the lid on his lighter shut and placed it back into his jeans pocket.

"Come on Jade, don't be a hardass, it's just a little nicotine." Keiji laughed and then made a motion with his hands that caused her to flip him the bird. Flustered, she pulled some of her medium length brown hair out of her eyes. He took note of the huge, green rock on her ring finger. It was the first time he'd noticed it in their years of having meetings like this. That's how long it had truly been, since his wife had been taken captive by this vampire.

"She's okay by the way, Chelsea." Jade added, crossing her legs. She wore a pink halter-top, deadpan black jeans and a pair of earrings that were at least 10ct gold. Her lips were adorned with dangerous scarlet, glossed to shining by a steady hand. Her kind usually had a peculiar scent to it, especially to Keiji's nose, but not her. Jade had to be the only vampire he'd ever known that smelled almost completely human. Even Blade had too much vampire in his blood to be an exception.

Keiji turned his focus to the dirty carpet, and fixated his vision on his shoes. This was usually the worst and quietest part of the meeting between them. He'd hear that she was alright, watch a short, pre-recorded Skype video of her doing some every day task like fixing her hair, and he'd know that she was out of his reach. It hurt like hell. Jade was literally the only lead on the planet he had to reclaiming Chelsea, and killing her wouldn't solve a thing. Jade also had no family that he knew of, and since the only thing connected to her was the man whose rock she wore on her finger, Keiji had absolutely no leverage to use against her. The tears fell as they always did, slowly, corrupting his otherwise rugged face. He waved his hand at her, and she opened the laptop, which played the video he knew was coming. It was dated for two days ago.

Keiji watched through blurred vision, the image of his wife, excellently styled short hair, full, curvy body and plump lips, get ready for work. Chelsea worked as a Dean for a community college in New Jersey, full time, and was doing the small things that he missed most. She gazed at herself in the mirror, applied the slightest amount of blush to her bronzed cheeks, and then slowly, but carefully put on two pairs of earrings, taking special care when it came to her left ear.

Keiji had to laugh to hide the pain. That was the moment where he'd bite on her ear and tickle her stomach. She'd laugh and slap him away, but he wouldn't stop messing with her until she turned to give him a full on kiss, broken only by his duty to prepare breakfast for her. He watched Chelsea scoop up her purse, check her cell phone, and then head to the kitchen. Toast popped up and into her hands, and Chelsea scarfed it down quickly, strutting to the door before its bell rang, as if she'd been waiting a hundred years for it. She deserved much more than toast for breakfast, she deserved a full course masterpiece. Keiji hadn't been able to create one for her in years.

"Thank you for giving me a ride Bryan; I don't know what I'd do without you. Shall we hit up Denny's for some coffee and omelets?" The video ended with the closing of their house door. _Their_ door, with the nice golden handle and the two sets of locks that they'd both put up together on a cold, Saturday morning. _Who the hell was Bryan?_ Hot rage seeped into his brain, but Jade did nothing but callously close the laptop, returning it to where Keiji could assume was her bedroom. He was never allowed to move beyond the living room, another stupid, yet essential part of his written, legal contract with her. Jade had him in every way, and he would never be rid of her until he found out where her son's killer was.

"She remembers me doesn't she?" Keiji choked. His throat squeezed tight, and more tears fled from his eyes. There was no comforting hand, no assurance of joy in the morning, no one to attend to his own personal agony. Keiji accepted this as a werewolf. There was only him and Sutonokami, but the pack, while fighting as one, were still individuals. He was Kaiser's Beta, and Kaiser was the only one who knew his pain, period. That didn't mean Kaiser consoled him about it; he had his own issues to contend with.

"She knows who you are, and who you were, but currently she does not want to see you. You know what you did to her. You know why that home is no longer yours, and you know why you cannot see her at that college. You know why you're sending her thousands of dollars for each vampire that you kill." Jade's voice was flat, but whipped him deep gashes in his back. Each phrase was a fact, and cut into his flesh just as hard as it did his psyche.

"Do you think I can do anything? Fix it before it's too late?" Keiji looked up at her, a pitiful sight to even himself. Werewolves never groveled, nor did they ask vampires of any kind for advice. Vampires were the master race of sensuality, illusion, and deceit. While he did not trust her beyond the matter of his wife, he needed Jade's input now. Keiji's stomach twisted into a knot once he realized it. If she didn't say anything now, he'd probably be crushed physically and mentally for the rest of the week at the very least.

"The chance of you saving your lost marriage is the same as you finding my son's killer. The faster you do that, the more time you have." Jade's bird suddenly erupted into a cacophony of chirping. Keiji would have been annoyed by the sound, except that seeing a bird of any kind in the Nexus was rare. Pigeons were the only commodity here, everything else flew past the clouds of smog in the air and the immense destruction of nature required in order to properly maintain the city's functions.

"And what about yours? Can you save your marriage before it's too late?" Keiji had meant it as a passing comment, but grief, and a sharp animosity towards whomever this Bryan was, caused him to interrogate her.

Jade glanced down at the impressive green gemstone on her finger, flipped her hair and leaned toward him, bracing her hands on her thighs. "I never had a husband, only a fiancée. Surely, as I am dead to him, he is dead to me; we're not searching for each other. I will never see him again, because I couldn't face him without first exacting my revenge for our lost child. As much as it pains you to not see your wife in the flesh, yours is nothing next to his. He was a great man, and I imagine that no matter what he has done today with his life, he still lives in constant agony, not knowing anything of my fate."

Keiji could question no more. He snatched up his clothing as he left, though his blood was pumping furiously. Mentally, Kaiser put a firm hand on his shoulder, staving off the intense need to transform into the greatest beast of them all. A mighty hunger still tore its way through his stomach though, and even his Alpha couldn't do a thing about that.

"I'll let you know when I find out anything more." Keiji slammed the door behind him, refusing to look back at the woman who crossed her arms over her chest, the woman who held his entire future in the palm of her hands.

"Fuck yeah, out and about again." Onyx cried out as they neared the high-rise building. It was quite luxurious for a coven hideout, but a promise was a promise. Blade had told Ahmed that he'd blow Lotus sky high if he didn't get in that night. Therefore, for all the trouble that it took to admit him into that nightclub, he'd take a substitute. Lotus had burned to ashes that night, leaving nothing but dead bodies and feeding vampires, so he was going after Ahmed's coven leader. Rude ass bouncer was nothing but a familiar anyway, the mark of his vampire servitude even more plain than the disgusting tattoo of a snake that wound around his left eye.

"I'll go left, you take right," Blade commanded, adjusting his shades and blasting through a vampire guard's neck with a sawed-off shotgun without missing a beat. He jumped into a fly kick on the recently opened door, which rocketed off the hinges, crushing someone behind it. Blade made sure to stomp extra hard over the unconscious body. He was on a mission. Find the highest vampire of the coven, and squeeze him for information about Vladimir and the two swords Gabriel had mentioned. Onyx was ready to be on his own as well, Blade could tell, from the three perfectly timed executions he'd made within a minute of their impromptu entrance. Blade scaled a wall, catching hold of a balcony, and then vanished, leaving his subordinate to finally partake in the action he craved so badly.

Onyx weaved aside to avoid a sharp scrape of deadly claws. He flicked a knife from his pocket, which turned the vampire into ash immediately. The familiars were flipping shit, talking on radios and fleeing for their lives, knowing they had no chance in a fight. He knew Blade would take care of their boss, so it was up to him to gather any excess intel that he could. He rounded a corner, and met the straight end of a baseball bat, which made him choke on his own blood. His body folded like paper, dropping him to the floor like a welcome mat to be walked on. Onyx squeezed open his eyelids, just in time to see the man abandon the bat for a gun leveled at his head.

"Eat this, you pile of shit."

"Why the hell would you drop the baseball bat?" Onyx scoffed, snatching the security pass from his assailant's neck. He wasn't fast enough to dodge bullets, but he could sweep kick with the best of them. The man practically fell into his iron fists, dropping the gun, and leaving Onyx enough time to retaliate, blow for blow, with the weapon used to strike him. Onyx's bat swings were twice as hard, and left the man with four broken ribs and a reason to scream. After dismantling the gun, he placed the magazine into his pocket. With an extra level of precaution, he scooped up the gun too, just in case.

It wasn't hard to find their main data storage, because there was a gigantic directory in the center of the atrium. As Onyx loped toward the computer rooms, he ignored shrieks in the distance, probably more cowards fleeing the scene. He placed his back to the cold wall beside the metallic door and touched his new card to the electronic reader. A robotic, yet distinctly feminine voice greeted him by false name, and the door swung open for him. Onyx threw a flash grenade inside first, and when it exploded, people came running. He ducked low to the ground, waiting for the last straggler to exit, then caught him in a mighty chokehold from behind, dragging him back into the room and forcing him down into a swivel chair.

"Unlock this terminal, no bullshit, or your head goes flying." Onyx's MAC-11 spoke for him, making chubby fingers fly. He'd been right to carry along the firearm that had threatened his life earlier.

"There. Just let me go man! I got a wife and kids, please don't shoot me! I don't even want to be here!" Onyx was tired of the nonsense, but let the familiar go anyway. By the time he got upstairs to notify any superiors, Onyx would be done combing the hard drive anyway. He hoped.

"The hell?" Onyx stumbled upon some data, and after sorting through dump files and irrelevant zip's, he had access to S.P.E.C.S.'s mainframe. _How was that even possible from this remote location?_ Personal files of over a dozen top wanted criminals flooded the screen, mug shots ranging from confused faces to straight nasty ones. His own name drew his eye, prompting him to click it promptly. From there, a neat cache of files sorted in a perfect folder opened, displaying public records and photos of him from before he'd officially started training with Blade.

He took a nervous glance at the door, and then raised his feet from the floor, hunching over in the chair, sweating bullets. The only telltale sign that someone was in the room would be his flickering monitor. Even the sound of James's key presses was masked, due to the humming of several supercomputer fans all at once. This much electricity constrained to one room was probably just as dangerous as his current access to S.P.E.C.S.'s records was. Even so, while focused on the monitor, he was completely vulnerable to attacks. Onyx needed to hurry.

He quickly flashed through the pictures, looking for a clue, anything that might give him a hint about his past. The pictures were so clear, and unmistakably him. They were stamped with locations that ranged from Arizona to Sweden. He didn't remember traveling the globe as a child and he didn't remember much of his life before Blade anyway. Someone didn't want him to remember.

A sharp pain entered his head, making him clutch his temples with his hands. A low-pitched squealing bounced around his crown, making him whip around and search the room, paranoid. There was no one there. Onyx's vision blurred and he stood up, trying to combat the scratching inside his head with altitude. This only made him lightheaded, swaying drunkenly on his feet, balance torn to shreds. He wanted to pass out, but his body would not let him.

"James, do you hear me James? My name is Yuki Naga, and I am the reason you are here today. You are everything you are because of my ingenuity and dexterity. You are a weapon. When I command you to kill, you will kill, and you will use anything around you to get the job done."

Onyx weaved to the right, clutching a desk for dear life, as his legs temporarily turned into jelly. He was hyperventilating now. The room was becoming an oven, the temperature enough to summon a new wave of sweat from his pores. He had to leave. Dragging his feet, he returned to the entrance, with barely enough energy to reuse the stolen security card.

"You are a weapon of chaos and destruction, you will never know love, you will never become a vampire. Your blood is a toxin to them, and they know it. You will kill them unmercifully under my command. You will kill for me and only me. We're on the same side in this war, and we will be the ones to end it."

Whomever Yuki was, his voice was permanently etched into Onyx's skull as if he'd listened to the recording for hours. Each word he heard from the monitor, he could not forget. Stumbling his way into the atrium once more, Onyx jumped back as his mentor slammed a vampire into the part of the floor illuminated by a luxurious skylight above them. There was barely half of a heartbeat before the vampire burst into flames.

"We got what we need, let's go!" Blade cried out, dashing for the door. Onyx was frozen momentarily, simply trying to form coherent words. Any sentence would do. As he chased after Blade, his thoughts became a jumbled mess, and he forgot what he wanted to tell his mentor. The coven's connection to S.P.E.C.S just didn't seem important anymore; instead, the voice in his mind dominated everything.

"Fucking Globuli Rossi2, their leader was as stupid as their coven name!" Blade raised his hand for Onyx to slap five, but was left hanging. "What's eating you?" He asked, turning his eyes on his subordinate. Behind them, the artsy styled building went up in flames, large shards of glass showering the streets, making pedestrians scream. They were burning rubber, covering over half of the distance back to the base in record time. Onyx didn't speak however; he kept his head down low and in his arms. Blade looked at him for a few more seconds, and then let the purr of the V8 engine guide them back to the base. He knew there was something that Onyx wasn't telling him, but had no time to deal with it. No sooner than he disarmed the internal alarms at the construction base, he made a beeline for the computer rooms, determined to confirm the coven leader's information.

According to him, one of the swords that Gabriel had described to him did indeed belong to Vladimir, having been forged in the fires of Amaurot's famous blacksmith house. Blade remembered that place well, even though its physical location on the map had moved since he'd last visited. It was the stage of his grandiose battle with his indirect creator, Deacon Frost. It wasn't named The City of Vampires for nothing. Vampire royalty and the elite armies still resided in the diamond district of the newer island, while the most vicious atrocities were still committed in the zirconia locality. Things never changed. With humans, there were hierarchies, and likewise vampires loved to lord their power over others of the same species. True, he hadn't visited the island in decades, but Blade didn't think he would have to. Even knowing all of that, he couldn't confirm that Vladimir's lair was in Amaurot, just that his primary weapon had been forged there.

"Yo, where's Aisha?" Onyx called about half an hour later, popping his head into the computer room. Blade stared at the screen like a mindless zombie, flowcharts and walls of text among the only things that existed to him.

"I got a text from her saying she had a mercenary meeting, then training with the Amazon." Blade responded, robotic. Then all hell broke loose.

"Babe it's fine, alright? I just gave the guys a run for their money. Keeping them on their toes you know?" Panther spoke softly, stroking his hand down the length of Angela's smooth cheek. She caught his hand with a powerful grip, and looked him dead in his eyes. Angela was still angry.

"What the hell happened back there? There was the danger room, and then you were gone? I was worried." He caught her as she barreled into his arms, purposefully leaving out the part where she'd returned to her guilty pleasure of gambling.

"I can't explain much of it myself, but I do know this. Whatever S.P.E.C.S. is using that danger room for; it involves that mech that we saw at the parade. The simulation is too real for anything else. Their organization already has military specialists; I'm willing to bet that they don't use that room for daily training regimens. That's why we only saw one of them on the streets of Times Square; it has to be a relatively new project." Panther rubbed his hand along his chin. The mission had been overall a failure, in terms of gathering data, but even as he lay in bed with his girlfriend, he felt the new surge of power within himself. In those terms, the mission was an overwhelming victory, and he'd show the rest of Vici the scope of his new strength, as soon as they got their next bounty.

"Don't worry me anymore Keith. It's bad enough I have two other men to babysit. Don't throw this extra stress on me." Angela tossed her hair, and put a finger to his lips to silence his quick-witted reply. "Don't." She admonished.

"Fine," He assented, done with resisting her. "Apologize to the guys for blowing up on them, and we'll relax the rest of the night." Angela was quick to comply, screaming her extenuation through the walls just to spend more time in his arms.

The officers swarmed in like ants to an unattended bowl of honey. Alarms blared, but then were choked to death by humongous EMP waves. Spikes shot out from walls, floors opened up, and military-grade dogs were released, but the officers never ceased their advance. Blade shoved Onyx toward the back of the base before he could be surrounded. Random gunfire shattered several priceless objects; the base was being ransacked.

"Get out of here! Take Aisha her katanas and go!" Onyx darted from the room at Blade's command, while the officers surrounded Blade. Blade sadly knew that his hard drives were about to be seized as evidence, and everything he had here would be stolen from him. He was gonna miss that flat screen.

While Blade, watched officers in riot gear trash the place, searching for anything useful, he was bold enough to grin. They would not find his sword, nor any other weapons that belonged to him, including Vladimir's artifacts. Onyx had plenty of time to escape with Aisha's trademark weapons, and his base was already set to self-destruct within the hour, the quintessential items already safely transported to his next hideout. SPECS only had a temporary victory over him; it would always be like that.

"Oh look, it's the white knight himself." Blade sneered, removing his shades and stamping on them to get a closer look at the general. Syfy stepped from between the folds of bodies, which closed up behind him like the door to a bank vault. The ring of officers that surrounded him in riot gear was determined be unbroken.

"You have the right to remain silent Blade. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." Syfy began, placing handcuffs on Blade's wrists. The Daywalker hadn't resisted at all.

"I'd advise your men to stop snooping around, before they find the bomb that sends this place sky high." Blade threatened.

"We'll long be gone before that happens." Syfy replied, with a malevolent shove to his back. "Now move. I've got a few questions that I know you're _dying_ to answer."

"You got this Oberon? There's a very important meeting I have to attend. Ensure that no one enters, nor exits this room but you. In twenty minutes, consider the base on lockdown. I want Dr. Rashidli informed of this in my absence, pronto. All orders, both menial and executive are to be enacted upon her call. There are no exceptions." Syfy waited for Oberon's bow and verbal consent before grabbing a thick black overcoat from one of the many closets in the interrogation sect. When he reached the parking lot, he called ahead to the gate guards and zoomed away from HQ for Vizuela. Half of him couldn't believe he was leaving Blade, the object of his pursuits for over a decade now, for some vampire girl who was stalking him. He didn't want to think of it that way, but when it came down to it, that's exactly what was happening. To pass the time during the drive, he used his car's hub to contact Yuki's chief advisor and inform him of his recent capture. The advisor personally commended his good work, and even gave him hopes of Yuki actually sending in some reinforcement troops from the next district over, this pleased Syfy, making the drive that much easier.

Syfy pushed open Vizuela's thick, double doors once again, but entered into an atmosphere entirely different from the one before. Where there was once bright lighting, loud boisterous shouts, and drinks left alone by grubby, weaving hands, there was a complete and eerie silence. The dusty light bulbs in the ceiling fans, usually a dull orange color, had been overtaken by long candles, which sat on a few of the tables, providing limited lighting. There was a single, purple candle on the stage where bands usually played, and a single blue candle on the downstairs bar. Rather than ponder the meanings of the different candle colors, Syfy took a head count. There were four people in the room, counting him. He noticed Mariko Satsukitane the moment he'd stepped into Vizuela, hanging from the ceiling by her feet, which unsurprisingly, were covered with tabi shoes. There was too much danger in one place. With a grimace, he dragged his feet forward toward the table where Sterk and his stalker sat, indiscriminately trampling bloodstains, rugs, and intricate woodwork that was far too underappreciated. He had done his research the moment the Black Tiger agreed to the meeting. Syfy knew that Sterk Lionheart and Mariko Satsukitane were among Vici's top mercenaries, so did that mean his stalker was one of them as well? He found himself searching the walls for the board that showed the names and faces of the registered mercenaries in Vizuela's top 50 ranks, but it was much too dark to see. For all of her digging, Dr. Rashidli hadn't provided him with the Black Tiger's rank, but Syfy imagined that since the Black Tiger was an unspeakable, no one outside of Vizuela knew her rank. Syfy kept his eyes peeled for alternate escape routes, in case this entire scenario was nothing more than a trap.

"Have a seat." Sterk beckoned, narrowing his eyes at Syfy. The discontent and enmity between them could be felt all the way across the room, yet no one said a word concerning it. As Syfy wordlessly pulled out his chair and joined the table, the Black Tiger rose from hers, asking Mariko for a musical instrument called the shamisen. Mariko nodded her head and vanished, returning moments later with what appeared to be nothing more than a colorful banjo with a drum body and a long neck. The Black Tiger thanked the woman for the instrument, carrying it up to the stage as if it holding precious jewels. She sat right next to the purple candle, her kimono easily folding beneath her bent knees. After lighting it with a lighter clearly designed for ceremonies and not smoking, Aisha then closed her eyes and became enraptured by the instrument, producing a sound so wonderfully melancholy that for the five minutes that she played, time stood absolutely still. Grudges were forgotten, troubles put to rest, and focus remained rooted to the front stage. As Aisha played by the flickering purple candlelight, Mariko dropped from the ceiling again, spending thirty seconds nodding her head in tune with the melody, followed by joining Aisha on stage with a shamisen of her own. Mariko chose to sit cross-legged behind Aisha, refusing to overshadow the beautiful player in motion. She plucked a few strings, then adjusted the tuning of the instrument and began to play in perfect sync with Aisha.

As he watched the ladies play a heart wrenching song, Syfy realized that it was one he recognized from long ago. He couldn't place his finger on where he remembered it from, but it was an instrumental to a foreign lullaby that was ingrained in the gray matter inside his skull. Without meaning to, he found himself lost in his own memories, childhood springing forth beneath his closed eyelids like a jack in the box. For a second, playground recollections and cheerful smiles shifted into a beautiful vision of his fiancée Jade, her warm honey eyes completely drinking him in, reopening a tightly sealed wound on his heart. After that, the sight of the shamisen player in the front besmeared his vision of his lost fiancée, her hypnotic red eyes putting him in a comfortable lull. A new heat entered his bones, making him feel as if he were in a familiar embrace, transmitting an unimaginable amount of love and caring directly into him. Syfy couldn't step closer to her in the dream-like vision, but couldn't resist admiring her from afar either. The lighting, which came from the blank white sky above with billowing orange clouds, rained a perfect half shadow on her face, tickling the tips of her fingernails, which were already coated in a shiny, clear polish. When she smiled at him, her teeth were perfectly normal and straight, delivered with a fierceness that made his stomach do a backflip. Try as he might, Syfy couldn't form words in his mouth, each one being devoured by the radiance projected in her simple smile. His heart pounded louder than her composition, but she still played, producing music that was ecstasy to his ears. Had he been so blinded by his profession that he'd forgotten to partake in an essential art woven in the very fabric of humanity, listening to music?

"Oh God, you've put the boy to sleep. Did anyone bring a spare crib?" Sterk commented sarcastically, just before Syfy opened his eyes and returned to reality. Everyone sat at the table now, Mariko to his left and his mysterious stalker at his right. Something about her was wrong. In his mental conception of her, the Black Tiger's eyes were ruby red, yet the eyes he stared into were electric blue. _Was this really the Black Tiger that he'd wanted to see? Had Joe set him up with an imposter?_

"He's probably so deep into his work that he doesn't have time to appreciate the simple things in life, you ass." Aisha sniped back at Sterk in Jonathan's defense. Sterk's face soured immediately, forcing him to look physically offended at the quip. She let out a short giggle, which confirmed without any doubt that she was the real Black Tiger. Syfy's stomach was in knots as he fought to contain the barely visible blush her moment of giddiness engendered within him. Syfy found himself looking at the floor and then asking for a stiff drink. He'd known that Sterk would be present to head the meeting, which did nothing more than make everything increasingly difficult. There were personal questions that he'd needed to ask, but would be an idiot to pose them in such hated company. With just Mariko and Aisha, the atmosphere would've been triply as forgiving. Mariko obliged him by mixing up some spicy tequila that warmed his insides hot in under a minute. He tried to think of how to proceed, liquid courage bolstering his ego and loosening his lips, but even so, opening the meeting proved to be quite the challenge.

"You asked to see me Jonathan sama3?" Aisha asked, weaving charm into the vibrations of her voice. It was a clever act, which she was proud to put on, for she'd never been formal with him before. She watched his eyes land on hers for only a moment, and then fan out to the rest of the group. She didn't get gooseflesh, or feel an electric shock when he stared at her. There were no butterflies in her stomach, and she didn't seem to be swooning anytime soon. Yet, despite all that, there was still a strong feeling deep down inside her chest for him. She wanted to protect him, to love him.

He was unsure how to respond at first. Silence rolled into the room like a thief in the night, waiting for words to break its back. Syfy would speak them, but could never retract them once he did so. "Why are you following me, and why did you breach my organization?"

Mariko curled her lips up at this, relaxing into the back of her chair, sitting as comfortably as a cat perched on the back of a couch. She idly played with her purple ringlets, never once setting her gaze upon anything but Syfy. The man was attractive, she could give Aisha that, but there was also a constant ferocity in the professional way that he sat, even though his tequila was more than halfway gone. Perhaps it was because of his altercation with Sterk, but she could feel the tension in his bones distributing to each person there. Mariko rolled her shoulders trying to get rid of it but failed. God, the stiffness wound up in that man somehow did his perfect sideburns and shaped-up chin hair a disservice. What she needed was an hour-long Shiatsu massage.

Aisha lifted her ceramic cup of tea to her lips. Deep blue eyeshade framed her electric blue eyes, making them even more seductive than they already were. She made sure to leave a light print of lipstick on the white cup when she set it down slowly, watching Syfy's eyes trace its path. "Have something a bit more soothing and healthy for your stomach." She slid the cup over to him with one of her extremely long kimono sleeves, leaving no room for him to forbear her offering. Even something as innocuous as clothing put Syfy back into his analytical, calculating self. He'd learned that long sleeved kimonos, especially those that went past the hands, were a mark of being single and ready for marriage in Japanese custom. Syfy felt that she was in the peak of her womanhood, though she could hardly be older than twenty-five. Taking special caution to avoid Sterk's prying eyes, he accepted the cup with a slight bow of his head and drank from the side opposite the lipstick mark. This amused Mariko, who now watched Syfy with even greater interest. Part of her couldn't understand why he'd taken the time to show a strand of respect for someone like Sterk, whom he hated so much. Jonathan was indeed an interesting man.

After taking a few more hot sips of her Jasmine tea, Syfy muttered thanks and then repeated his questions. He wasn't going to let her escape answering them.

"I did it to gain intel of course Jonathan sama. Espionage is one of my more astute capabilities; perhaps you could use another officer in your _private_ sector? Maybe one with some _undercover_ experience?" Aisha's insinuation rolled off her lips with ease, kissing his ears. It was quite fun to flirt with him.

"You admit it then, you broke into my headquarters unlawfully simply to sate your curiosity. I demand some sort of disciplinary action. We do not take such matters lightly, where I come from. Not only that, but you committed a federal offense, and I cannot simply stand by and let you get away with it." He quickly responded, ignoring her underlying innuendos. Syfy closed his eyes and drank down the remainder of the tea. Its taste lingered on his tongue, sweet, but sour, bitter, yet strong.

"Perhaps you should spank me then," She teased, batting her eyelashes. Sterk groaned in annoyance. It went on this way for two more hours, questions flying left and right like a tennis match, but consistently evaded by both sides, making it more like a verbal dodge ball. With each response, the Black Tiger added flirtation, which surprisingly never got on Syfy's nerves enough for him to call her out on it. Eventually, Sterk became tired of making rude side comments, packed up his greatsword and left without a word. Once the door shut behind him, Mariko let out a huge breath of relief.

"Bastard always knows how to kill the mood in a room." Mariko snickered, resting her feet pointedly on the tabletop. Aisha dragged a long strand of black hair back and tucked it behind her ear.

"You got that right, a fucking emotionally challenged parasite." Aisha insulted, a light, mocking laughter ringing like music through the air. Syfy found himself staring at the women in awe. Moments before, they were all business and serious, inspecting him so closely that it seemed like he was a test subject under a microscope. Yet now, even the Black Tiger seemed more relaxed after Sterk left. He didn't know why, but her smiles seemed more genuine, filled with mirth and less forced. When her eyes lit up as she conversed with Mariko, Syfy saw something in them that did something to his mind, something he liked.

"So you like him don't you?" Mariko asked, leaning much too far forward in Aisha's direction. To avoid lip contact, Aisha moved back in her chair, balancing precariously in a dangerous free fall for two seconds, and then falling to the floor as the chair crashed and burned.

"Dammit Mariko! Quit messing with me! It's not like that with us." Syfy watched her rise to her feet carefully, noting the rosiness of her cheeks. For a vampire, she sure acted like any other young adult female he knew. She had emotions, full and bright, a warm attitude and a definitive grasp on every situation. She was very different from most of the vampires he'd encountered in his career. In fact, the more Syfy thought about it, the more she reminded him of Blade. It was very weird.

"So Black Tiger, again I ask you, why me? If there's no physical attraction, you aren't going to kill me, and you have no peripheral interest in me, then why?" Syfy repeated himself a few times, stuttering on some of his words. Now was not the time for inebriation to set in.

"Call me Ai. When you call me, I will be there for you. Remember that." Aisha responded in a soft voice. She tucked a piece of paper with her cell phone number on it into his pocket, bashfulness eating her up. It was the first time she'd given a human her cell phone number, for she wasn't lucky enough to have an American high school experience, and the whole thing felt different, new. Butterflies suddenly swarmed around in her stomach, making her feel unbelievably shy. _She didn't have any romantic feelings for him, but what was it that she felt inside? _Her smiles toward him were warmer, and even though she felt that it was her duty to protect him from harm, she felt safer in _his_ presence, not the other way around. Something was very wrong about their relationship, but she couldn't ask her gut for answers it did not have.

"Oooh, so you guys are already on a first name basis? Why don't I just leave and let you two get it on already?" Mariko grabbed her sides with the intensity of the laughter that burst from her chest. When she finished, both she and Ai stared Syfy straight in his eyes, watching his lids flutter and then close as the contents of the tea activated within his bloodstream.

1 Tabi socks, or the Jika-tabi mentioned here are two toed socks (or boots made of heavier material) often worn by ninja and samurai

2 Italian for "Red Blood Cells" it is the coven that Ahmed (Bouncer from Ch. 4: Lotus Flower Bomb) belongs to

3 Sama is a Japanese suffix attached to a name to show more respect than the standard -san


	13. Chapter 12: First Match

**Chapter Twelve**

"Every scrap of data that coven had access to is shredded, Mr. Naga. Our black squad is arriving now to collect any external memory including those whose contents have already been emptied. In addition, what little vampire coven members remain will be disposed of. All is according to your will." Dean bowed his head low and backed slightly away from Yuki's commanding presence. The older man bowed back slightly, his change in mood was very intimidating.

"That Daywalker is proving to be troublesome. I may have to activate my experiments sooner than originally planned. Get me a status update on every one of them within a hundred mile radius." Dean gave his assent, and then asked for permission to speak. While Yuki's stare was indeed icy, he permitted his assistant to express himself.

"We just got word from the advisor that the Nexus branch of SPECS has Blade in custody, ready for interrogation first thing tomorrow morning." Dean relayed, his blue eyes on the floor. Even when delivering good news, he didn't dare stand up to Yuki as an equal. That was something you learned the first day on the job.

"Very interesting. Be sure to send Syfy my congratulations, I'm sure he'll take care of things _personally_." Yuki smirked, practically snatching papers from another assistant, who hastily made her exit afterwards. Yuki's eyes scanned each file lightly, stopping on a file labeled Trigger longer than the rest. He walked down the narrow hallway, ignoring those who had no choice but to bow before him as he passed. Yuki pulled up Trigger through his PDA with a quick QR scan, noting his experiment's vital signs. Soon, and very soon, he would activate his sharpshooter, pushing him even further than his body's limit would allow. He had decided so years in advance. Vampire activity in the Nexus was at an all time high, and Yuki knew that there was more than just an underground vampire fight club going on. He'd already heard several reports of silver not being enough to take down quite a few vampires, their resistance strengthening several covens along the East coast. He'd have to look into the matter himself at a later time. For now, he'd focus on enhancing the new weapons that had come into their hands. War was war, no matter how you looked at it, and the nanosuit mechs were only the first step in being top dog. The vampires were up to something big, and he'd be damned if he was going to command the losing side in this war.

"Tell me why am I training with butter knives instead of katanas? You know my weapon specialty Amara. If I'm fighting for my life, wouldn't you suggest I do so with something I'm good at?" Aisha whined, while Amara grinned. In one hand, she held a small leather shield, in the other a plastic knife that could hardly cut butter without bending.

"You know nothing of the gladiator world, so take heed. Close combat draws the most blood. Close combat fuels and fills the lungs of the crowd. Specializing in close combat will make you a crowd favorite, and liked in the eyes of the public. Besides, there's no way in hell they'd let fresh meat fight with such an advanced weapon. It is a blood sport you know; they don't want you to survive, and they surely don't want you to win it all." Amara explained, instructing Aisha to take a battle stance. "I'll show you what I mean."

Aisha crouched slightly and took a Bajiquan stance. Chi began flowing from her hands producing an ethereal glow invisible to the naked eye. She still felt like complaining though. "So theatrics and prejudice? Isn't it about how many people I can kill consecutively?" She paused after that, because Amara lunged at her. Aisha shifted her hands to block, but Amara was already behind her, using her strong leg to lock Aisha into place. Even though she hardly felt it, the teeth from the flimsy knife dragged all the way across the width of the back of her neck, raising the hair there in fear. In a regular fight, Amara's move would've been a guaranteed kill.

Amara stepped back beaming, but did not gloat about her achievement. "Do you see it now? I will even make things fairer for you to explain the advantages of close combat. You're going to have to learn it child." Amara reached her slender fingers down into a chest and extracted a black polished bokken. Aisha caught it in the air and leveled it, licking her lips.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Aisha exclaimed confidently, tightening her grip on the practice blade. She relaxed into her stance, watching Amara even closer than before. Sweat beaded on her brow, but she refused to wipe it. Moving an inch would be enough for Amara to strike her vitals, thus ending the mock fight. Aisha had her katana now; she had the victory.

"Whenever you're ready Sugar," Amara cooed, even though her eyes were the only things giving away her taunt. The rest of Amara's muscles were taut, and ready to react at a moment's notice. Try as she might, Aisha knew that there was a steep curve in the amount of focus they both exhibited. Every breath Amara took drew Aisha's eyes to a different part of her body, while Amara's gaze was unwavering, eyes boring into her soul. After standing for a silent two minutes, trying not to react to the smallest of Amara's movements, Aisha attacked viciously. The bokken rebounded off the round shield, leaving Aisha's chest wide open. In the space of seconds, Aisha felt the knife poke her heart twice, and the center of her stomach once. It happened so fast, that even her reaction time decreased with the surprise, postponing her counter attack, which still catapulted Amara onto the floor. Aisha cursed softly to herself. Again, the damage had been done. It didn't matter if the opponent fell to the floor if they had managed to kill you in the process. Anyone knew that a bruise in exchange for a life was a stupid move, akin to trading a meaningless pawn for a powerful queen in chess.

"Alright, train me then." Aisha conceded, dropping the bokken to the floor. Amara's dexterity with both the shield and the small weapon was something to be admired. Aside from the movies, she'd never seen an expert of knife handling, and she definitely hadn't seen anyone trained in the way Amara started teaching her. Amara handed her a plastic knife, and dutifully taught her everything she knew. The process took only hours, but there were no breaks in their session. By the time it was over, Aisha collapsed. Sleep was calling her name, whether her body really needed it or not, and she had memorization testing drills to do at mid-day tomorrow. _How much of this would she actually use?_

"So it begins." Tiffany exhaled, placing her hand over her mouth, stifling a yawn. No sooner than they had gotten off the plane, Markus had unleashed his inner primitive giant, and was turning people left and right with Vladimir's hook. There was a horrible amount of blood after every encounter, petrified screams shaking the entire airport. The doors were all locked because of Anubis, and there was no escape for the thousands of people trapped within. She watched Markus shove the hook straight into someone's mouth, the ghastly blade erupting from the back of his victim's head as their soul left their body, leaving behind an empty shell, a vampire shell. Once the soul was disconnected from its host, the transformation from human into vampire was instantaneous. Fangs erupted from each mouth, and the eyes shrank back into the skull leaving blackened craters. All Markus would need to do was turn fifty people. The new vampires had an insatiable hunger, and preyed on the frenetic civilians nearby. Blood spattered every surface imaginable, from vacant waiting seats to cash registers inside Starbucks. When Markus gave the signal, Anubis unlocked every door, releasing the plague upon the Nexus. Cops couldn't stop them; heavy artillery had no chance, for these soulless beings would go to any length to feed. No one was safe, no place was safe, and nobody would be excluded from the onslaught. Nobody.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Onyx swore loudly, drawing curious eyes from all around the bus. His nerves were shot, and he was practically trembling where he sat. In his hands, the two swords clacked against each other, merely echoing his nervous demeanor. They had taken Blade. SPECS had really taken Blade. Never, in the years that he'd been with his mentor did he believe that that was possible. SPECS hadn't even been able to locate any of Blade's strongholds, and they rotated between them once every nine weeks on average. He couldn't believe it. Blade had sacrificed himself to ensure his escape…Onyx didn't think of his mentor as callous, or coldhearted ever, just a tough-love type individual, but the weight of his mentor's sacrifice was heavy on his mind. Onyx closed his eyes drumming his fingers against his head, hoping to find something other than despair within the recesses of his thoughts. He found nothing. SPECS would show no mercy to a target they had been pursuing for years, and even if Blade had all of the combat prowess in the world, it wouldn't be enough to stand up to hundreds of enemies, unarmed after his complete surrender. SPECS technology was top of the line, all but ensuring a zero chance of escape for Blade once he reached their headquarters. Onyx had no idea how much data SPECS could get from the ransacked base, or if he was now a primary target in their ongoing pursuit. He believed very strongly that as soon as they were done with Blade, they'd be at his heels like hounds on the hunt. He wasn't ready for that. Blade's shoes were much too big to fill.

The bus stopped at Vizuela, and Onyx dived off it and into the night air. He had to reach Aisha somehow to recap and return her swords, and with Joe's help, it shouldn't have been a problem. Onyx arrived at the double doors just as they were being opened. A well-endowed female exited, giving him a once over and a creepy smile. The one eye uncovered by neon purple hair was completely obscured by a Japanese symbol he didn't know, and sealed shut. The rest of her body was hidden (save for a few slivers of bare skin reflecting moonlight), because there was a tall grown man raised onto her shoulders, unconscious. Before James could say anything, she swept her way past him, and then vanished before he could turn around. Something inside of him wanted to give chase, but there were more pressing issues at hand. He had to contact Aisha.

The inside of Vizuela was smoky as if a veil of mist had been entombed within the building. A few colored candles provided a small amount of light, requiring him to squint to make sense of his surroundings. The first thing Onyx did after verifying that the first floor was completely empty, was call out for Joe, who came down the single stairway moments later. The Scotsman looked unbelievably tired, even though there were no signs of struggle in the establishment. Perhaps he'd just cleaned it from top to bottom, for his large hands were pruning.

"Onyx eh? What's wrong? What are ye doin' here aft hours?" Joe asked, sitting down in a massive chair near Onyx. Though he turned to face the visitor, Joe held his head in his hands. For lack of a word, Onyx could only call the man depressed based on his body language. In any case, Onyx knew that asking about it would yield no results. Despite his overly optimistic attitude most of the time, Joe rarely disclosed details about his personal life with anyone. Onyx had tried asking four years ago, and that was the last time he ever would. He needed to cut to the chase.

"SPECS ambushed us today at the base. They've got Blade. I'd appreciate anything that you could do to hook me up with Aisha because she's gotta know this. We've gotta get him back!" Onyx could feel his voice rising, so before he got emotional, he simply dropped to his knees. "Please man, I'm begging you. He sacrificed himself so that I could get away from the officers unscathed. I know there's a rat somewhere, SPECS has been pursuing us for over a decade with no concrete leads on our strongholds. Someone had to tip them off. Putting that aside, I need to get Blade out of there before they kill him. Without him, I don't know what to do."

Onyx's words jolted Joe awake. What was once a gloomy face was now one contorted with rage. "Should we mount a counterattack? I have some people on standby that could raise arms against the HQ. I could get a bomb squad…" Joe was up and reaching around the counter as if prepared to go on a suicide mission right then and there.

"No." Onyx simply responded, stopping him. "Just use your connections to put a call through to Aisha. We can handle this, alone." Onyx's voice was pure steel; even Joe had no choice but to honor his request. In the meantime, Onyx used a different phone to dial SPECS HQ anonymously. He thought that they'd like to know about the information he'd found connecting them directly to a vampire coven established right here in their city. After arguing for what seemed like fifteen minutes to escalate his call as high as he could get it, he was put on the phone with their COO, Nadira Rashidli. Onyx would have to play it safe, or risk being hung up on, his information dismissed as a joke.

"This is Dr. Rashidli, what seems to be the problem?" Onyx groaned, for her tone was already full of pointed annoyance. He couldn't blame her though, it was in the early hours of the morning, and over 90% of the businesses in the Nexus weren't due to open in another five hours or so.

"I have substantial reason to believe that a vampire coven established in the Nexus is connected directly to your organization. This is not a joke. Keep an eye out for any new transfers or strange activity, someone there is not who they seem."

"Why should I take your information seriously? What separates this threat from the rest? How can you confirm your credibility?" Dr. Rashidli opposed, signaling a nearby officer to trace the call. She had to probe for more information, but knew the call would be disconnected soon. Asking the perpetrator's name and location would only escalate that.

"The information connecting you to them had Yuki Naga's Japanese stamp of approval and five-part signature at the bottom. Our tracks were erased soon after; the vampires almost killed us for accessing that information. Me and my crew had to bounce or risk becoming bloodsuckers." Onyx laid it on thick, pretending only to be an unlucky juvenile delinquent. A small fit of shivers gripped him as he said Yuki's name though, reminding him immediately of the voices that rattled his mind on the day of the raid.

"So you aren't working alone? How many people are in on this? Where is the coven located?" Dr. Rashidli became frantic, but all she received was a click as the line disconnected, two seconds before the call could be traced. She banged her fist on the desk. A traitor would put Syfy in extreme danger; she had to touch bases with him as soon as possible.

"We're still trying to patch Aisha in. I imagine the call will go through as soon as she awakens. I've set the priority as high as possible." Joe informed Onyx. "You're welcome to spend the night in the guest room on the second floor; I know you need to clear your head and plan." Joe viciously barked in Scottish at several people on the phone, angrily waving his hands in the process. Onyx clapped him on his back, a silent thanks, and trudged upstairs. He wasn't hungry, he wasn't thirsty, but his mind was a chaotic tornado. Joe was right. He needed to clear his head and plan. Breaking Blade out of police captivity wasn't going to be an easy feat.

"I feel so bad for doing this." Dr. Rashidli chastised herself, punching in Syfy's home number on her office phone. Syfy had left the job early today for a meeting elsewhere, and she'd forced him to take the rest of the night off. It hurt her so much to have to wake him from what may have been his first good night's sleep in weeks. The tone rang a full six times before sending her to voicemail. She hung up quite forcefully, now biting the inside of her cheek. If Syfy was really in danger, this was not the time for him to be unreachable. He needed to pick up his phone. She crossed her fingers, praying that he hadn't removed his watch, and placed another call, this one with a complex stream of numbers. Then all she could do was wait.

Syfy rolled off his bed, body slamming painfully into the floor. He rose to his feet, nurturing his wounded arm, wondering how in the hell he got home. The last thing he remembered ironically was Ai's smile at Vizuela. Clearing his head from that radiant vision, he answered Dr. Rashidli's call through his watch, projecting a small hologram of her sitting in her office chair. "What's going on? I thought you sent me away for the day?" Syfy teased, yawning. He took another glance at the watch. It was easily four in the morning.

"We just got an anonymous call, something serious. You know how the anonymous tip we received from that female gave us the location to Blade's hideout? We were just informed that a traitor is in our midst, and your life is in danger."

"Do we have to go to Yuki with this? How serious was the voice? Could you trace it?" Syfy was wide-awake now, pacing the floor in his bedroom. When Nadira's hologram wasn't looking, he rubbed his hand along his neck just to be sure he wasn't bitten. He was hoping to get a few more hours of shut eye before going in to interrogate Blade, but it seemed like that wasn't going to happen.

"That's the dilemma. Whomever gave us the tip specifically mentioned Yuki's Japanese approval stamp, and his five-part signature. There's no way anyone would know about that unless they were looking at legally authorized papers. Do you remember the last time you saw Yuki sign anything?" Dr. Rashidli tried to keep her cool, but could feel that Syfy was echoing her concerns. She didn't want to say it aloud, but if there was a traitor in their branch, her life was also in peril, since she was the next highest rung on the corporal ladder.

"Alright, I'm coming in early, that much is a given, so let's calm down and think about this, what's the problem if they only have an official document? What's the bigger piece of this picture?" Syfy scratched his head, but suited up, starting with a nicely crafted Kevlar vest. Dr. Rashidli was too frazzled to stop him from dressing in front of her. Not that she would've minded either way.

"The informant said that a vampire coven established here in the Nexus had access to the data. That means…" Dr. Rashidli trailed off, biting her lip.

"Someone at HQ isn't human. Start recovering time logs for the past two weeks. The informant couldn't have gotten this information too long ago since they graciously called to warn us. Check out the calls made in the city from just after you hang up with the informant. Look for anything strange pertaining vampires. As soon as I'm finished with this interrogation, we will sort this out." Within ten minutes, Syfy was already in his garage, revving up his Eclipse. He just hoped that the traitor valued their covert operation more than their life, because he was going to find out who it was, and end them.

Early morning traffic had him at the Headquarters in a little under two hours, and he checked in and was ready for the interrogation at eight. As he walked through the well-lit hallways, he had to wonder at the many subordinates that greeted him with genuine smiles. Someone either was a vampire, or had a distinct tattoo depicting a coven's insignia emblazoned on their skin. As he passed the last few windows in the stairwell, he gazed outside at the late sunrise and smiled. Today would be the day he got the information he'd been wanting for years now. Today was that day. Syfy nodded at Oberon, who moved from in front of the door to Blade's cell-like room. Oberon returned his nod with a salute.

Syfy shut the door behind him, entering a small room void of any decoration or additional furniture. Dull fluorescent lights bounced infinitely off a white floor and the surrounding white walls. There were three cameras to the room, and a clear window to his back that let everyone see inside. Despite the clear vision of the room's contents, the chamber was completely soundproof, for even the cameras could not detect any audio.

Blade sat completely strapped shoulder-to-toe in a cold, metal chair, muscles bulging, breaths making his bare chest heave. They'd taken large blood samples from him three times already, and he'd long since stopped seeing red due to human fatigue. He didn't dare doze off on the enemy's turf. Even so, Blade realized hours ago that it was pointless to struggle. Syfy walked up to the Daywalker, shoving a mouth guard straight into his mouth, where anti-vampire serum injected straight into his bloodstream. Blade let out an unusual cry of agony as his body shivered, causing Syfy to take a precautionary step backward. Blade's eyes were red for a few seconds, then a dull yellow, and back to their original color. There weren't any fangs in his mouth though, so Syfy took that as a good sign.

"It took quite a while Blade, but I can assure you, all I want is information. We both know I'm not a mafia boss. I'm not trying to kill you. All I want are the honest facts." Syfy began.

"Sure sure." Blade responded in a singsong voice, forcing the mouth guard coated in blood and saliva to fall to the floor. He felt as if he'd been drugged, his vision was so cloudy. His body weaved side to side in the chair, but Syfy didn't seem to notice. "That's why you took blood from me." When Blade opened his eyes again, they were scarlet, but again, only for a few seconds. Syfy wasn't afraid.

"Means to an end Blade. Remember, I ask the questions here. Now tell me, where is Jade?" He crossed his arms over his chest. A lot more than just anti-vampire serum would soon take effect, corrupting Blade's synapses.

Blade racked his mind, and finally recalled who Jade was. He remembered the blinding flash of green light in the SPECS weapons cache he'd discovered, and the events that had taken place about fifteen years ago. Blade recollected the cabin, the dusty picture, and the beautiful woman. He recalled turning Jade into a vampire, in explicit detail, down to the feel of her fingertips and the last moan she made before her three-day slumber. This was not going to be an easy conversation. "I have not seen her in over a decade, since you started tracking me." Blade answered truthfully, closing his eyes. As a man, he knew that his eyes would give Syfy much more information about Jade, information that he did not need to know just yet.

"Where did you see her last?" Blade could smell the urgency in his questions. Though initially he wanted to resist just to toy with the executive, now he was absolutely ready to answer every single question. They had to have drugged him. Even so, despite his annoying persistence through the years, Blade had come to think of Syfy as a man who would honor his word. He could've killed Blade the night before, but instead, had allowed him a complimentary blood-free meal with his captivity. Perhaps Syfy also saw Blade with the same degree of respect?

"The last time I saw her was after the Vampire Human War of 2045."

"Do you have any leads on where she might be?" Syfy's voice was an octave higher. His hands had tight grips on Blade's binding shackles, ready to shake or strike him if necessary. Answers were crucial to the officer at this junction.

"She was out for revenge. Jade would do anything necessary to exact her vengeance, without limits as far as I could tell. All I truly know is that she meant to make heads roll after her son was taken away from her. Your son." Blade opened his eyes and caught Syfy at his most vulnerable moment. Fear tightened the executive's throat and quickened his pulse. Syfy's stomach clenched and his armpits began to sweat beneath his business casual attire. Blade was finding it rather enjoyable.

"One last question, and I'll consider your freedom after a gracious detention period." Syfy crouched so that he was eye level with Blade. There was a fierce determination in his face, and his body raised its internal guard as hard as his jaw was set. Blade smirked, but Syfy was paying no attention. The administrator leaned in so closely, that if Blade craned his neck a little more, he would be able to rip his throat clean out with little effort. This fact too was lost on the SPECS commander, who was completely unarmed.

"Is she alive, or a vampire?"

"Do you swear, upon your life, that you will uphold the law, protect your citizens, and eradicate all forms of malevolent paranormal entities, both extraordinary and supernatural?" The man's eyes were unwavering, and he practically didn't blink while administering the 40-minute inducting speech.

"I do."  
>"Then by the power given to me by our government, strengthened by our integrity, and watched over by the Almighty above, I accept your initiation into the Nexus branch of the Special Paranormal Evisceration Control Sect, and welcome you as a new member. Anubis Grave, we welcome you as brothers. May you find your time with us fulfilling."<p>

There was a raucous uproar of applause throughout the room, as Anubis stepped up to the podium and spoke a few, but powerful words. Afterwards, he shook hands with the induction board, and gave the Chief Operating Officer a friendly hug. She had an interesting scent to her, mixed in with a countenance that displayed fighting spirit. Anubis pulled back from her and let himself drown in her eyes for the smallest of seconds, before turning away. She would make an excellent vampire. He scanned the crowd one last time, before leaving the remote office, ready to start his duty as a head tactician of SPECS. The irony of it all was going to murder him before the day was over.

"Chief Operating Officer Nadira Rashidli, permit me to speak, albeit may be quite rude." Oberon Grimm, patriarch of the nanosuit pilots, placed his fist over his heart and bowed slightly. He'd been late to the meeting, but only because Syfy had instructed him personally to take a 24-hour watch over Blade. Dr. Rashidli almost blushed at such a public display; no one had ever bowed to her before. She didn't think she was that important, even though her status warranted it.

"Forget the formalities Oberon, what's on your mind?" Dr. Rashidli turned her head in just the right way to reflect the many brightly lit lamps in the room. Her hair was lightly curled; locks precisely styled to frame her sun-kissed face. Regardless of her clear position of authority over him, Oberon found her completely stunning, ex-model from Azerbaijan or not. He couldn't believe that Syfy hadn't sank his claws into her yet; everyone knew that she was head over heels for him.

"Anubis, I mean, he transferred in from Cairo, Egypt correct? I am extremely familiar with the area, but I don't remember anyone being there with a black jackal's mask always on their head. Doesn't it bother you that you can't see his face beneath that external mask? You know who Anubis was don't you?"

"His reputation precedes him Oberon. Anubis was an adept soldier and a tactical genius, heading an undefeatable special operations squad for the Egyptian military with twelve more years of service under his belt than you. You should respect him, as you are ex-military as well. You know we need someone like him among our ranks. Would you want me to turn you down for the position if you chose to embody or worship a deity associated with mummification? That's discrimination isn't it?" Dr. Rashidli asked, being both lighthearted and serious at once. She could see Oberon's sheepish smile; it was cute.

"Excuse me doctor. It's just; something doesn't rub me the right was about him." That was all that he could offer. Oberon already looked bad enough in front of her, having made a fool of himself. Articulating the right words to a beautiful woman was downright impossible.

"I understand your concerns Oberon. You must trust me, he's not here to take your job, and we wouldn't consider him to pilot any of the nanosuits we currently own. He's here to offer us his services, and nothing more. You're aware of how many officers we're going to have to send out today alone? There's already a small pandemic of unexplained vampire transformations occurring in the city today. We need competent leaders as fast as possible. I'll take them from anywhere in the world." With that, she laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder, ending the conversation. "It's only too bad Syfy couldn't have been here for the induction. I imagine that the interrogation is running him ragged. Would you like me to drive you back to HQ?"

Oberon assented, and jumped in the back of Nadira's Jeep Cherokee. He was lost in his own thoughts for the entire trip back.

"I've done it! The 50th suit!" Mr. Nerudamus clapped his hands excitedly, personally shaking hands with everyone on his engineering team. Together with them, he had created a grand total of 50 nanosuits, the majority of which had been greatly improved from the original. Sure Yuki had three models, but they had near a goddamn army! Anti-EMP metal integration activated backup generators in the case that an EMP wave cut off the initial power. Backup generators were protected internally on all sides by tubing that would not conduct electricity. The up time had increased from a maximum of two hours to five per suit, and each suit's weapon augmentations were seamless. Most important of the pros, the clean red and silver finish from the original marked them all as Mr. N exclusives. Possibly the best modification of all, the worst of the negative side effects, the lifespan shortening, had all but been eliminated since the 30th suit. The fifty men who piloted the suits deserved gold medals, especially Oberon Grimm, the first man willing to lay his life down to defend justice. Something about his suit was unique, something almost magical. Aside from ramping up the battery, the suit could not be improved further, almost as if Oberon was the only one able to allow such things to happen. Additionally, the psychological synchronize rate between Oberon and his suit was the highest recorded, at 99.8%. No one since him had been able to top an 85% sync rate, which meant that Oberon's suit was faster, sharper, more adaptable, and was the fastest at changing in coordination with its pilot's thoughts. As each of Mr. N's thirty-two engineers shared in his happiness, he beamed proudly, thinking about the suit that started it all. Soon, and very soon, they'd be able to effectively halt vampire activity in all of the Nexus. There would be no need for petty self-proclaimed vampire hunters, and there would be no more war between the two species. Dr. N couldn't wait to see a time like that.

Mariko popped a piece of twisted tornado Bubblicious bubble gum, tapping her foot impatiently. The top floor of the destroyed children's hospital on 22nd street had been their meeting place, and her contact was running late. She hated waiting. After a few more bubbles came and went, she decided that it wasn't worth her time, and prepared to leave, only to be welcomed by the scent of an intruder. _What a lucky bastard, _she thought.

"Smelling the flowers again you stupid wolf? You were almost too late." Mariko laughed, smoothing the wrinkles out of her skintight dress. The clothing was a mockery of apparel everywhere, revealing twice as many curves and crevices as the amount it concealed. The wind blew straight through the enormous hole in the ceiling, giving her goosebumps that she ignored. The sky above looked mean with angry black clouds slowly crossing it. Mariko could care less, for the cold never fazed her.

"I had work." Lucien spat, idly flipping his short, silver hair. "Something you just have others do for you," He finished, crossing his arms over a sleeveless biker vest. Apparently, he was trying to impress her with the painstakingly drawn tattoos over both his rippled shoulders. It didn't work.

"The target this time is on the piece of paper in your left rear jeans pocket." Mariko sneered, turning her back on him to walk away, classy wedges managing to navigate the dangerous debris easily. She listened to him unfold the crumpled sheet after the initial shock of feeling it inside his pocket without his realization.

"No." The words Lucien spoke were the quickest of slaps to Mariko's face. He never declined the bounties she gave him, ever.

She stopped dead in her tracks, turning to face him, all traces of mirth gone. "Does she hit a little too close to home Lucien? Too fucking bad. You think it's easy getting a band of fucking dogs into the underground gladiator matches, run by some of the richest, elite vampires in the world nonetheless? Deal with it you little shit." Mariko narrowed her visible eye, the purple iris appearing to crackle with electricity. She dared him to oppose her again.

"Sally MacDougal is my cousin's wife! You want me to strike her down just to get us into a blood sport? I won't do it, you've gotta be shitting me!" Lucien surprised himself with the sudden sense of righteousness he felt in his heart. Normally, he was swarmed by thoughts on how to steal the Alpha position of the pack from Kaiser, by any means necessary.

"You can bring her to me alive, but I will kill her in front of you." Mariko pointed out, grinning from ear to ear. "If you don't change your act soon, I may have to gut you like a fish where you stand. Last time I checked, I'm the only way you'd have access to the tournament anyhow, or would you rather never find out where Kryzon is being held against his will?"

The lilt in her voice snapped something within him, causing him to ball his hands into fists; however, that was nothing compared to the acrid stench of blood in his wolven snout. Mariko had gashed a huge line down his nose using artificial claws that looked nothing more than metallic fingernail extensions. Lucien couldn't become a full wolf without a full moon in the sky, another reason he coveted Kaiser's mysterious ability as Alpha to do so. Nevertheless, when Mariko shoved his fist up near the back of his neck, he screamed in pain, for his shoulder was about to dislocate, and his arm was in peril of breaking. Without his transformation, he would never match her strength and speed, despite being at least ten years and seventy pounds her senior.

"You little bitch, consent to my mission as you always do, or fail your pack, and run home limping with your tail in between your legs." Mariko's voice caused him to panic, audible whimpers unintentionally escaping from his lips.

"Alright, I'll do it!" Lucien choked out. Mariko kicked him in the center of his back, causing him to fall forward onto his face. When he looked around the barren room, his eyes bet nothing but debris charred beyond recognition. Even the electricity was out, although the occasional sputter of sparks could be seen from the damaged bulbs in the wall. He could hear Mariko just fine, even though she wasn't visible.

"Have it done by the night before the match. If you bring her here alive, I will get you all into the match without a hitch, your entire pack. If you kill her and bring me the body, I'll give you an extra five thousand on top of that."

"Her life is worth more than one hundred times that!" Lucien hollered back, but the howling of the wind was the only presence left to hear him.

Aisha looked to both her left and her right, but could only see the distant sky populated with huge, fluffy clouds. Hundreds of feet beneath her echoed the roaring waters of the ocean, white froth gnashing its teeth like a monster as it slowly, but surely ate away at the impeding landmass. She was standing on a cliff, with less than an inch of breathing space on either side of her bare feet. Fear of falling consumed her, so that even though she wanted to, she could not turn around. When she finally calmed down, she focused her eyes on what was ahead of her, astonished that she hadn't noticed it before. At the end of the cliff, there was a thick pedestal of rock cemented to the ground, inside of which was the most beautiful katana she had ever laid eyes on. There was no question that the blade was full tang in a class all its own, with a look so sharp it could cut matter into ribbons. She glanced at the guard at the end of the handle, noticing the seven connections between it and the handle of the weapon, crafted so intricately that the tsuba may as well have been the strongest katana guard in existence. Black prayer beads looped down the black, iron peg constructed handle, which was wrapped in a brilliant red nylon the color of blood. The whole weapon pulsed with an enormous amount of chi and it longed for her to wield it. _Could she pull it from the stone?  
><em> Aisha walked up to the sword and as soon as she touched it, all of the energy drained from her body, causing her to collapse directly before its majestic existence. Aisha immediately went into shock when she saw the pool of crimson building around her face. Her nose filled with the scent of blood, and her right arm would not move. There was a deep cut running from her wrist all the way up to her shoulder, but when she looked at the sword, there was no blood marring its gleaming black blade. _Had she touched it at all?  
><em>"You are not worthy enough to wield me. Only when you are bound to a power greater than your own will you ever be able to claim me. For you are cursed with a generational curse, and every offspring you conceive will face the same requirements." The sword was speaking to her, offering little in the way of aid.

"Offspring?" Aisha whispered, her eyes fluttering beneath her lids. Her body quaked in a sudden seizure, and she fell off the edge of the cliff, hurtling toward a watery grave.

"Wake up dammit, we're under attack!" Amara yelled, painfully kicking her again. Aisha snarled back, snapping up from the floor and into a fighting stance.

"What the hell is your problem?" Aisha yelled back.

Amara ignored her, staking a vampire behind her in the chest, turning him into hot ashes. With just that, Aisha understood everything. She scanned the room, unable to find a sharp weapon to wield, instead opting for hand-to-hand combat, leaving Amara to finish those she temporarily knocked out. The invading vampires came in waves, shattering Amara's windows and making a mess of her normally beautiful home. By the time they'd fended off the last invader, the place was a complete mess.

"Now I'll have to call housekeeping," Amara sighed sadly, pushing sweat saturated bangs from out of her face. She had a few scrapes on her deep milk chocolate arms, but nothing serious.

"Something about this isn't right." Aisha started, glancing around at a few of the bodies that hadn't torched yet. All of them were female, still somehow hanging onto life by a thread. Many of them were spitting curses as best as they could, choking up black blood in the process. "Why haven't these vampires gone to ash yet? Also, did you notice the ones that did burst into flame? Their eyes were sunken in their skulls like corpses. A true vampire would have more finesse than to appear that emaciated and gaunt, we definitely care about our physical appearance more than many other things."

"Is that so?" Amara teased, surveying her charred rugs with disdain.

"This is serious; I've got to tell Blade." Aisha whipped out her cell phone and tried his primary and secondary numbers. There was no response on either. She even tried to Skype him, but got no reply as well. _Where the hell was he? _A voicemail blasted an anime opening from her iPhone's speakers, and she promptly checked it. It was Joe, urgently telling her to get her ass to Vizuela.

"You've gotta run don't you?" Amara chimed, giving Aisha a motherly glance. Aisha nodded, sincerely embracing her. Her head relaxed against Amara's breasts for a few, precious seconds, before Aisha was gone out the door. The sky was overcast and cloudy, hardly filtering enough sunlight through to be a peril to her. As she dashed through the streets, upset because there weren't enough shadows for her to use for high-speed travel, she observed chaos on every corner she looked. Vampires were everywhere.

For midday, the city was in a truly dismal state. Fires broke out in several buildings, where civilians scrambled for their lives away from ravenous, fanged creatures with the same sunken in eyes as the attackers from Amara's home. Aisha didn't know if she could truly call them vampires or not, but one thing was certain; they were killing innocent people at an alarming rate. Additionally, none of the entities sought to kill her, but rather only went for the necks of those who were still mortal. As much as she wanted to fight, Aisha didn't have a weapon with her, and knew that prioritizing Vizuela was a must. In any case, Joe probably knew about Blade's whereabouts.

Being underground was nothing to scoff at either. As Aisha reluctantly resorted to the subway, part of her wished she'd never had the thought. Blood on brick dominated her vision, and worst of all, the tracks were lined with panicking people who could not pull themselves back onto the platform. No one had time to save them, because each person with their humanity intact was concerned with self-preservation. She couldn't blame them. Ignoring the terrible gore and bone crunching breaks, she got on the first car leaving for downtown, not terribly worried about a destructive subway crash. Keeping a close eye on the stations, when it was time for her to leave, she merely pulled the car doors apart herself, using a fraction of her immense fortitude, and leaped out of the car to safety. From here, it was a cinch reaching the mercenary tavern.

"She's here." Joe announced, seconds before Aisha blasted through the doorway, slamming it behind her. For the time being, the establishment was closed to any ranks beneath S, which excluded 98% of all the patrons. Even mercenaries were smart enough to read a sign and to recognize how to avoid intense repercussions.

Onyx came from out of the back room, skulking down the stairs as if he was walking through quicksand. When he stopped before Aisha, they both spoke at the exact same time, Onyx giving Aisha the floor.

"Have you seen what's going on outside? It's a massacre!" Aisha exasperated, but Joe simply pointed to a recently installed high definition screen. The Nexus Channel Seven News was already covering the pandemic, blaring warnings about the show's graphic nature every minute. "Innocent people are being turned all over the place, what's happening? We've gotta contact Blade and find this source before the whole state is corrupted!" Aisha was practically delirious. It only took Onyx a sentence to calm her down.

"SPECS has Blade. They compromised our base, destroyed everything, and arrested him on the spot. Jonathan was even there in the flesh. If it hadn't been for Blade, they would've gotten me as well."

Aisha stopped talking, simply staring at Onyx's face in shock. While she knew he wasn't going to cry, there was something extremely vulnerable in his eyes the moment he spoke those words. There was sorrow. There was respect. There was confusion. At the root of it all, Aisha knew their next step, but what would they do? "You've got a plan right?" She asked, half expecting to be the one forced to come up with one.

"It's not simple, but it will only take you and I." Onyx confirmed, slapping down a full-scale blueprint of the headquarters. "We have to wait until tomorrow night. SPECS is currently undergoing a grace period delay while they wait for reinforcements. Tomorrow they will send a massive attack force out to exterminate this contagion, possibly even use the mech we've seen before. Under the cover of darkness, their building will be a piece of cake to get into. You'll hit a skylight, while I will go straight through the front. All you need is access to a stairway, and then we meet on the fifth basement floor, where the interrogation rooms are." Onyx looked up into Aisha's eyes, making sure she knew everything this plan entitled. She licked her lips at him, which made him blush and refocus on the blueprint.

"Why do I have to enter from such a high floor? If everything goes smoothly, you will arrive at the rooms well in advance." Aisha pointed out.

"That's the purpose. No one said you couldn't raise hell on your way down, drawing suspicion and guards to you." Onyx grinned, returning her quip with an equal look of brimming confidence. She found it extremely attractive.

"So tomorrow then, what will we do until then? There's no gym here and I'd rather spend my day productively, no offense Joe, but drinking here wouldn't exactly be the best idea. And technically, neither of us is supposed to be here." She laughed, addressing the sign on both sides of the double doors, which Onyx hadn't noticed the night before.

"None taken Aisha." Joe replied, eyes still locked on the television.

"We go hunting." Onyx stated, handing Aisha both of her swords. Her face lit up the second her hands touched the katanas.

"I suppose you'll be needing something too?" Joe asked Onyx, placing a silver-lined machete on the countertop. Onyx took it without a word.

"Fan out! We're looking for a source here!" Keith yelled to his teammates, leaping from overturned vehicle to overturned vehicle. There was madness all around him, and the vampires were prime for the taking. He didn't know how many had bounties on their heads, but Keith knew that it would be best if they started taking out as many as possible before SPECS stole all of the glory. Vici had citizens to protect, and a name to make for themselves. Panther's sense of direction was primarily guided by instinct alone. He knew they were headed in the general direction of the larger predator, the vampire responsible for the chaos. He leaped from atop a streetlight, massacring a cold vampire seconds away from attacking a fleeing child. While the child made no motion to approach him, there was a moment of appreciation in her irises so strong that it filled him with an even stronger willpower. Keith blinked, his eyes suddenly becoming emerald green. In the distance, he heard Trigger firing shots like mad, and could see ashes filling the already blackened sky in pinpoint detail.

"We're getting close, I think I see him!" Aiden, Angela, and Panther turned their heads to the direction of Trigger's voice. Sure enough, where there was the largest concentration of zombie-like vampires, in Madison Square Park, there was a gigantic vampire with a hook on his right hand, no doubt the source of the unbelievable carnage. When Trigger finished his exclamation, the vampire craned his head to face the marksman, and began launching bodies at him as fast as human bullets. The sickening splatters they made against the building when Trigger evaded them only enhanced by the visions of gore forced upon the team.

"Eyes down, stay dark!" Panther relayed, weaving through pillars, dodging screaming civilians. At his nine was Kokei, who was armed with two pistols and a folded spear on his back. At Panther's six was Angela, her special knives at the ready. As surprising as it was, they weren't attacked until they reached the famous Shake Shack, unable to maintain a shadowy cover any longer. The largest vampire was only two hundred meters away, but the sheer amount of ravenous fangs that separated them may as well have been miles. In addition, Panther couldn't hear Trigger any longer, there were no gunshots nearby to provide them support fire, and no word from the gunman through the snazzy Bluetooth devices they wore. This worried him, but his own life came first.

Keith tore through sickly empty eye sockets again and again, rarely having to rely on anything other than his golden gauntlets and brute strength. Aiden was performing advanced techniques only using his spear, and even Angela was able to hold her own against a multitude of foes. The noises all around were deafening, and never stopped. The smell of burned flesh and dried blood saturated every nose, making throats tighten queasily. If not for the fight adrenaline, vomiting wouldn't have been optional. Keith whistled sharply, and within moments, a humongous panther burst through the trees, devouring shoulders and clawing throats. With one approving nod, E-Bon continued to rampage alongside the trio, incapacitating the majority of foes with little damage.

"I am Markus Ivashkov, Grand Elder to the great vampire Vladimir, your end is nigh!" The vampire's voice boomed across the park, shortly followed by a piercing shriek. The shrill wail was cut abruptly short. It was then that the grey vampire came into view. With a barrel chest infused with rock solid muscles, the vampire easily stood seven feet tall, with incisors slightly bigger than the mouth that contained them. At first, Panther couldn't imagine why there was a hook replacing his left hand, but then he saw the vampire chop clean through an elderly man's neck. Blood splashed onto the giant, filling his mouth while he laughed a tortuous sound of delight. That wasn't the end though. As the hook left the man's neck, leaving only an inch of skin holding the head in place, a translucent mass stuck to the end of the blood-coated hook like a fish. The body convulsed, falling to the ground one second, and rising the next, the only signs of Markus's attack being blood down the man's front. His back straightened, his head reattached, and the first chance he got, he sprinted at breakneck speeds to devour an innocent little boy with cotton candy in his mouth. The old man's eyes were soulless, empty and hollow, but he was a threat nonetheless. _Markus wasn't using his fangs to turn massive amounts of people; he was using the hook. But why?_ Panther thought.

"Look for an opening and try to get that hook! Without it, he can't turn people!" Panther leaped into the sky, crashing down atop the vampire's back, placing two five-inch claws straight into his cold skin.

"My work is already cut out for me you fools. Do you not realize that your city is falling as we speak? This park is but a fraction of the damage that has already been done. There are thousands turned now. You will be wiped out, one by one." Markus snatched Keith from his back and launched him into Angela, knocking her down easily. Aiden was forced to protect them from a wave of hungry beings, attracted to the bright crimson streak that went across Panther's back. Without even trying, Markus had given him a serious injury.

E-Bon roared, lacerating the skull tattoo with elephant tusk incisors on Markus's chest, weaving through his legs to dodge any counterattacks. The nimble creature attacked several more times, too fast for Markus to kill. Instead, Markus verified the new threats, choosing to destroy the few fighting against him. The first to meet his wrath was the blind man. Markus snapped the spear easily, and though a clip of rounds pierced his skin, one smack of his fist knocked the man unconscious. The park was moderately empty now, save for one or two feedings scattered around. Markus didn't mind though, he preferred handling things himself. If he were weak, Vladimir wouldn't have chosen him for the task. If he were weak, he would be destroyed. He was not weak.

Trigger fired two slugs into Markus's forearm, preventing the supernatural hook from cleaving into Aiden's flesh. He scooped Kokei up in a roll and pulled him away while Angela tried an advance again. She neatly dodged a few of Markus's lethal strikes, but there wasn't enough time to make moves of her own. Panther, whose back hadn't stopped bleeding, was working in conjunction with E-Bon to cause major damage to the behemoth. The monster let out a roar, thick silver fangs burying themselves deep in his ankle. Markus weaved for a second, and managed to catch the irritating cat by its tail. In a gut-wrenching fracture, he separated the wild animal into two halves, using his hook to toss them aside like paper. Markus roared during the kill, but didn't notice Keith's roar of an equal magnitude. Within three seconds, the man launched his full body weight into the left side of his chest, stabbing it relentlessly with the golden melee weapons. Black blood shot out of the vampire's chest, sizzling as it hit the grass below, staining it. Keith yelled for the rest of Vici to get Aiden somewhere safe, and though Trigger wanted to argue, he couldn't, safely providing the team with cover for their retreat. The fight was Keith's now, an intense rage blotting out anything else. Beneath the gauntlets, he could feel his hands adjusting, fingers growing longer, padding protecting their undersides. His own spine shifted, forcing him into a crouched position. The muscles in his legs expanded, providing him with a powerful warmth that he'd never felt before. On the outside, he hardly looked any different, save constant emerald green eyes, but on the inside, he had no limitations. He was going to take Markus down, no matter what.

Tiffany pushed up her glasses, adjusting her wavy blonde up-do and strutting down the hallway with confidence. She had no concerns about the cameras, nor did she have any problem pushing past the indecisive security guards that met her at each new entrance. All she had to do was adjust the lapels of her classy blazer, flip her hair and mention the biggest lawsuit in the history of SPECS and she they allowed her admittance. Once she reached the interrogation rooms, she didn't even knock before swinging the door wide open, leaving two onlookers wide-eyed and open mouthed.

"Director Jonathan Young I presume?" She didn't miss a beat. The only things in the room were the chair restraining Blade's movements and the three of them surrounded by walls. Instead of stopping once within the door, she marched straight up to Syfy, staring him straight in his eyes.

"That would be me. To what do I owe this interruption? I should have you executed for this intrusion." Syfy's voice was sharp and as cold as a knife. Even though he could see the brightness in her emerald eyes, he was no fool. He recognized a vampire when he saw one, fangs or not. He had known the subtle differences for years.

"Unlawful detainment. N.R.S 15-55-206 specifies that without legal reason or a legitimate investigation, you cannot hold my client here any longer. He's been here how long now? Two days? I hardly think an interrogation warrants that length of time, especially if you're just looking for personal assurance. Are you even conducting an investigation on Blade? I'd like to see some paperwork." Tiffany clicked her tongue at him, looking down at him over her glasses lenses.

Syfy scowled, his lips curling back rather prehistorically. "On whose authority can you enter a government building, bypass security, and make false accusations?" Blade simply watched the exchange, wondering where the hell Tiffany had come from, and why she was here in the first place. _Was she trying to rescue him?_ As tempting as the thought sounded, he couldn't imagine it himself.

"My law degree from Duke University coupled with my employment at the law firm of Allen and Ovary grants me that right. Now I'd suggest, that before you receive fines neck high and get shutdown due to multiple violations of the Special Paranormal Evisceration Control Sect's code of ethics, that you release Mr. Brooks, my client." Tiffany watched Jonathan's resolve crumble, and before long, with the aid of two other bodies, Blade stood next to her, free. "Don't think I won't return." Tiffany threatened. "I know the scope of the damages you've done to my client's personal property. Expect a court hearing in your future. Put _that _under investigation." Tiffany laughed, escorting Blade to a small white jeep outside of the main building.

Blade shrugged off thoughts of the past few days, taking in as much of the setting sun as he could. He was weakened, drastically, by the amount of blood taken from him, but could not argue that Tiffany Scott had gotten him out of the fire. He was about to say something, when five sprinting vampires were each shot dead by sharpshooters in strategically placed towers around the compound. _Rushing the headquarters of a corporation designed to destroy their kind? _Blade couldn't imagine what the world was coming to. Again, as he watched from the passenger's seat of the jeep, he noticed that the bodies had not gone to ash. Instead, each of them lay motionless, without recovering.

"Listen Tiffany. I'm going to give you directions to a penthouse suite I have up in Westside. Do me a favor and stay there once we arrive. I'll handle this one."

"As you command fearless leader. I was kinda hoping for a show of gratitude for saving your ass, but I guess a white girl can't get any love around here." She laughed again and zoomed down the freeway. Blade had no idea how saturated with vampires the city below was, and was in way over his head.

The next night, Aisha and Onyx headed to SPECS HQ as planned, using a blue Dodge Neon they'd 'borrowed' from an abandoned parking garage. War had broken out on the streets, officers and gunfire were everywhere along with the soulless vampires that seemed to have never-ending numbers. As Aisha pulled onto the street where the compound was located, she decided to try one last time to reach Blade by cell phone. It was a wonder the entire city hadn't been placed under martial law yet. Perhaps everyone was just too busy trying to contain the disaster.

"What are you gonna do if someone else answers? They'll be able to negotiate for our lives as well, are you sure calling him is the best idea?" Aisha ignored Onyx's questions, because two rings later the Daywalker picked up the phone.

"Where are you Aisha? I'm searching for the source right now. Use your cell phone to track my GPS signal; I'm sure you know how. The streets are hell out here; you won't be able to drive much further than you are now if you're at SPECS's main building. Try cutting around 42nd street. I should be there in a little over half an hour." Blade ended the call.

Aisha slammed on the brake, curving into an impressive U-turn. On the next street down, she took note of several armored cars leaving the military checkpoint that led back to SPECS. _With so many officers dispatched, would it put a dent in the vampire numbers? Who could have caused this much damage in such a short amount of time?_

"Do you want me to drive Aisha?" Onyx asked, snapping her out of her daydream. She shook her head to focus and floored the pedal.

"I've got it." Blade's looking for the mastermind behind all of this. We've got to help him. Using her free hand, she stroked the katanas in her lap. They were clean after last night's bloodshed, but she couldn't help but think that even hunting, she and Onyx hadn't been of much use to Blade lately. They hadn't even been able to arrive in time to bust him out of prison. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that it was her fault. Onyx didn't have to wait until sundown to make any moves. It was because of her that they hadn't gotten to him earlier in the day. She hang her head slightly as the gravity of such an event weighed down on her. Sure, she was an ally to the Daywalker, but was she really any help to him?

"Aisha, Aisha, Aisha!" Onyx leaned over her to grab the wheel, but it was too late. Even with a slight turn, they smashed into a fire hydrant, and Aisha was ejected through the windshield, blood and glass everywhere. Onyx hit his head on the interior of the car, creating an ugly mark on the side of his head that throbbed painfully. He could hardly move. It was just their luck that the stolen vehicle didn't have any working airbags, its hood crunching easily against the red hydrant.

Aisha opened her eyes slowly, almost completely numb to the pain. She stretched her hand out and grabbed her silver katana, crawling to the other one at her right, feeling glass powder enter the cuts on her hand. There was also blood running down both sides of her head, making her long hair sticky and red. There were vampires raving on the same block, feasting on some poor soul, but no one even looked in her direction. Instead, her eyes swept up the street in the exact opposite direction of the latest screaming crowd of civilians trying to survive. Ash and shotgun smoke were all that she could smell. From bloodstain to bloodstain, she searched frantically, looking for something more, and then she found it.

If she had had a beating heart, it would have exploded from her chest right then and there.

There was no mistaking the multitude of scars, the shining hook, bald head and the skull tattoo in the center of his chest. It was _him_. She fled into the shadows heading back to Amara's, forgetting all about Onyx and the car. She could not fight that vampire. Aisha would not fight him. Instead, she would fight in this tournament; she would kill in this tournament to help Blade. Everything else meant nothing. Even though she jumped through the shadows at light speed, her memories were faster, catching up to her in the space of a nanosecond.

"Until now, you have never held a katana. You have dual wielded bokken that weigh 120% more than their real counterparts and have done so flawlessly, but as always, there is still more to learn young child. In the Black Tiger Alpha Sect, one never reaches mastery, only stricter discipline and refinement."

Aisha bowed, bending her knees and outstretching her hands in a show of humility. She was twenty-two years old, having studied at the dojo since the moment she'd turned eight. "As always Sifu1 Lao, your knowledge is wise."

"Stand. Fight." Lao's words rang out across the dojo, the two that everyone knew the meaning of. A full 100-man kumite2 was about to begin, with Aisha at its center. Her first opponent stepped into the room, pulling aside the rice paper door, bowing first to Lao Zheng, and then to her. It was a longtime friend of hers named Kuma, with a heart as big as the thick Bo staff he specialized in. Today his hair was pulled into an odd, but entirely fitting topknot, his blue robes emblazoned with the insignia of the Black Tiger Alpha Sect. It was hard to forget such a broad chested man with a tall slender frame, tiger curved in an arc devouring the first letter of the alphabet while resting atop his passion-filled beating heart. In another lifetime, she would have gone steady with a young warrior like him, but courting in any kind was prohibited at the dojo. Aisha wasn't the best warrior that trained under Sifu Lao, but she was a top contender with a pair of wooden swords. Since the kumite put a hundred students against her one by one, she was allowed to choose a set of weapons that everyone would be forced to wield. For one such as Kuma, it would be impossible for him to adapt to the dual-wielding style, hands having been accustomed to holding one large weapon. Therefore, Kuma stood before her with a single wooden katana against her two. She already knew how to beat him.

"Begin." Sifu Lao hadn't even finished the word when the sounds of polished wood smacking against each other echoed around the room. The next bystander outside stood on the tips of his toes with excitement, until twenty seconds in, Lao declared 'point', which turned his adrenaline into despair.

The Black Tiger Alpha Sect wasn't a torturous dojo to be a part of, but sparring matches were taken very seriously, especially those done in front of Lao Zheng. For him to call point meant that Kuma had either been beaten so badly that in a real world situation, he'd have been declared a dead man walking, or that he'd taken a serious blow to the head, which incapacitated him to the point where continuing would be futile. When Kuma opened the paper door by sliding it to the right, he bowed back toward Aisha and then went back to his room, head held high. Large red blotches lined both of his hands, and a nasty purple bruise screamed at him from the back of Kuma's neck. The man had been beaten senseless, but held the pride of the sect on his shoulders. It would be a disgrace to Lao to drop his head, so Kuma would not.

And he, Shima Liang, had to go up against this demon next.

Praying for some semblance of mercy or fatigue to take her, he took what he imagined to be purposeful steps into the dojo, bowing to his Sifu, and stepping into the invisible square that marked the arena. Aisha's eyes were a nice, honey color, and normally, he'd consider them very beautiful. Alpha Sect was 80% male, and of the top performers, Aisha was one of the few women; the only one who used two katanas as her trademark weapon. His arms quivered at the thought of having to bear the additional weight of the practice equipment the sect used. Shima closed his eyes and took one calming breath, Aisha mirroring him on the other side. He specialized in using a single katana in combat, so he had to have some kind of chance, didn't he?

"Sai!" Lao rose to his feet from his comfortable kneeling position on a lime green cushion. Shima and Aisha relaxed their stances. The only time sai was called instead of begin was when one of the combatants needed advice before the match. It was akin to a handicap, though the damage done would be more mental than anything. Not only did sai mean that you were unfit for competing in the match, it also meant additional training sessions and loss of extra-curricular privileges. Shima lost face as his Master came over to him and patted him on the shoulder. He closed his eyes again, but this time in both fear and reverence. This was a shame to him as a warrior.

"The reason I called sai is because your guard is too lax. If you do not tighten it immediately, especially from your core chakra and above, you will lose in ten seconds or less."

Lao's words chilled his bones, but even as his Master sat down, he knew it would not be enough. Lao standing had been enough to end the match for Shima, skill be damned. He braced himself and Lao started the match.

"Begin."

Shima rushed her and slashed for her arm, an easy shot. Aisha shifted her stance into a spin, and bashed him on the head with the weapon. He saw stars, and knew he'd have a hell of a bump in the morning to contend with.

"Point." Master Zheng called out. Shima bowed his head and left the room, wondering how many more would suffer his fate. Aisha would have to get tired sometime…

Around her 58th match, another one of her friends who also used dual bokken, Cao Zhurong, managed to disarm her, reducing her to a single sword stance. It cost him the match however, but he left smiling, having received a nod of approval from Lao. Aisha gritted her teeth and became even stronger afterward. Twenty more foes went down, the matches lasting no longer than two minutes. Aisha's sweat coated the dojo's floor, each move she made perfuming the air with a brand new aroma of effort. On her 80th match, the only opponents that remained were all dual katana users that exceeded her in skill. Matches suddenly took four minutes or longer to complete. Aisha took down three before her body started shuddering. Each time her bokken connected with one of her foe's two; the collision rattled her teeth, making her muscles wail. She took a beating, ugly, raised welts covering both her arms. Somehow, her shoulder had begun to bleed, adding new ingredients to the green floor beneath her. Lao was moments away from announcing Aisha's loss when an uninvited being tore every wall around them into shreds.

"Aisha run! Take with you the swords of Heaven and Hell! Mako, warn the rest of the students, this is a no-drill, full armed assault! Inform everyone to leave the grounds at once!"

Those were Lao's last words. A horrible splash was Lao Zheng's innards hitting the dojo floor. Before his eyes could roll into the back of his head to be met by death, a large hook rived his head right off. The terrifying sight froze Mako and her for only a breath before they both were running as fast as they could. It was a trip that made her sick to her stomach; her heavy footfalls were beating her just as badly as her kumite matches. Mako branched off to search for the remaining dual katana-wielding warriors that were not lined up outside of the arena room, as they should have been. When he investigated their living quarters, he found nothing but bodies, cleaved and carved like rotting fish. No matter which door he moved aside, he never met a living soul. And then, he met death face to face.

"Your swords will not harm me, for I am Markus Ivashkov, Grand Elder to the great vampire Vladimir Drovsky. Your end is nigh."

Mako watched humongous fangs explode from the man's mouth, his body expanding to body-builder proportions. His chest rippled with hardened muscles and black scars, his pale skin a cool, grey color. What Mako saw spread across that barrel chest was a tattoo of a human skull, with incisors the size of elephant tusks. Markus stepped into the doorway, using only his left hand to break an entire wall down, so that his hulking mass would fit into the same room. Mako raised his weapons anyway. Lao would never want him to back down, and he would fight for his Master until he could fight no more, whether he was dead or alive. This wasn't a sparring match with Aisha. This was the real deal. Wooden swords wouldn't save his life; he already knew that. Mako's back was against the wall, among scattered remains of his loved ones, friends who'd become family, and students that he'd mentored. The entire thing was saddening really, but he refused to let tears fall.

"You're a brave one," Markus roared, purple veins in his arms and legs pulsing. Mako stood his ground, while Markus raised his blood-smeared hook. Mako's death was honorable, to say the least.

Aisha snatched the swords from the temple and sprinted for the docks, not daring to look behind her. With every step, she still lost blood from her shoulder, sweating everywhere else. She knew that only pure adrenaline was keeping her from collapsing. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, socks not nearly enough protection against the hard gravel she now had to run across. She heard the evil long before it got to her, and attempted to dodge it by weaving through a village, but her efforts did not pay off. With the fatigue of over eighty matches, and two full weight katanas slowing her down, she could only fight her muscles for so long. A grisly point carved a crescent moon around the back of her left thigh, forcing her to flop on the ground immediately. Markus pounced on her, and she was helpless, the two decorated katanas out of reach.

"You will make a great addition to my line, samurai." His foul breath alone almost knocked her unconscious. Gleaming red eyes stole her breath away, sunlight reflecting off his bald head, blocking anything else out. When the fangs pierced her neck, she ripped her lungs with a piercing scream that burned the very muscles of her throat. The world around her went black, and the last thing she heard was a malicious chuckle from the enormous vampire.

Aisha crossed her legs and sat down. Her fingers brushed against the scar on her thigh that she'd rather forget, and she almost burst into tears.

"Now before we start, you know how this works right? To fully embrace the power of Musou, you must let go of all of your emotions, ceasing to care about any and every thing. Once you initially enter the mode, you will get shocked for every ten seconds you are unable to maintain it. Tonight is the last night of training. This is all I can teach you. Amara put one last assuring hand on Aisha's back before activating the bracelets on both of her arms. If she wanted to be a champion gladiator, she would have to learn to separate herself from the equation, while refusing to give in to her most basic emotions. If she could do that, she was guaranteed to win.

"I understand Amara. I think I'm ready for this tournament." Aisha took a deep breath and took one last look at the condominium, which almost felt like home, despite the unkempt condition due to the last vampire attack. Then, she let go of everything.

It took Onyx fifteen minutes to escape the crushed up car, but once he did, he couldn't find Aisha anywhere. He practically turned over every stone within a block radius but didn't find anything, other than several soulless vampires that mistook him for food. Onyx had plenty of ammunition to get rid of them.

Returning to the car frustrated, he decided to look for Blade on his own. Aisha had driven them pretty close to his GPS coordinates, but since he didn't have his own cell with him, Onyx couldn't be sure. When he rounded the corner of 5th and Minnesota, he realized that he wouldn't need it. Blade was locked in heated combat with the largest vampire Onyx had ever seen. He didn't know why Blade didn't have his sword with him, but the disadvantage was painfully clear. After watching the first few blows, too stunned to move, it was clear the Blade was on his last legs. Onyx pulled out two SMG's and began firing erratically in their direction, trying to be a diversion, but failing. There were bullets that pierced the vampire in several places but didn't turn him into ash. Onyx ended up ditching the weapons for pistols, and emptying them recklessly. When the hook slashed Blade's torso, there was a great cry, and then, as if he'd turned into a shadow, Blade sunk to the ground forming a puddle of black. The blob then darted away from the scene, while the vampire turned its attention to a busload of children. As conflicted as he was, Onyx knew that nothing would be possible without Blade's help, so he tore his eyes away from the scene. He had to get to Blade, who once again, he could not help in any way. Onyx reminded himself that everyone on the planet had to make hard decisions like this one sometime in their lives.

"Shit man, I can't believe they do stuff like this nowadays." Keiji entered the coliseum, which immediately alerted him to the thousands of vampires seated in the stands. Because of Lucius, they'd gotten past the scrutiny of several layers of security, and as long as they were all unarmed, they were permitted access to the event. Kaiser led the three of them, with Warwolf staying behind.

"Eyes up, check it out." Kaiser whispered, turning his nose to the highest boxes of the stadium. Sure enough, in the three remaining boxes were three of the wealthiest vampire elites in North America, Lucia Noblesse, Minerva L'Soudofuje and Impresia Vela. The other two boxes had been removed permanently from the establishment.

The wolves found their seats, high above the arena across from the humongous electronic screen that doubled as a scoreboard. From what they could gather, tonight's festivities were just about to begin, with fresh blood. A barred gate rose to reveal a Japanese woman dressed scantily in a tight brown outfit with golden sandals that snaked up and around the majority of her leg. Practically armor less, the woman let out a scream and banged her pathetic shield and red dirk together.

"This oughta be good eh? Girl's gonna get slaughtered out there." Lucien laughed, lighting up a cigarette. Beside him, Keiji did the same albeit silently. Waiting for Kaiser's answer, Lucien stared at his alpha for another two minutes before dismissing the question and statement altogether.

Kaiser's eyes were on the three VIP boxes, Lucia Noblesse's box to be specific. The vampire was watching the match with excited scarlet eyes, much too closely to merely be invested in simply the money. Kaiser saw something more there, but couldn't place his finger on it.

"Let the first match begin!" An announcer's voice blared over the stadium.

1 Sifu is a Chinese term signifying a master who teaches martial arts or oversees certain traditions or philosophies

2 A kumite is a series of back to back sparring with many opponents originally only done with Japanese Karate


	14. Chapter 13: Potency

**Chapter Thirteen**

They were slow. Each of the women that were put against her were slow! Aisha ducked the edge of a rusty hatchet, countering by bashing her shield against Michelle's head. This almost felt unfair to her. Since her blow was strong enough to knock the gladiatrix off her feet, Aisha took the time to showboat, skipping circles around her disorientated foe. The crowd was eating her up. Pretty soon, hundreds of people were cheering her name. The adrenaline rush was unbelievable.

"Whoa now, don't get too feisty." Aisha teased, dodging again when Michelle finally recovered. Aisha feinted a few times with her five inch dirk, purposefully stopping herself from dealing a finishing blow. She was waiting for a crowd pleasing opening, another of the elements Amara was sure to teach her. Killing based on instinct was not the answer in the world of gladiatrix fights. Instead, she had to bide her time, wait for the perfect moment to unleash a crushing strike which her opponent would not be able to recover from.

And there it was.

Hoisting the hatchet over her head with both hands, Michelle rushed her, in what had to be the stupidest single move in the tournament so far. Aisha smirked, the results of her provocation paying off immensely. Michelle's hatchet lodged itself through the center of her deplorable shield. When Michelle struggled to pull it free, Aisha raised her left leg, and destroyed Michelle's stomach with a devastating kick so powerful, Michelle flew in the air a moment before losing her breath as her back hit the ground. The crowd was already screaming kill.

Aisha launched the pierced wooden shield away, marching directly up to her opponent. With three quick stabs, the match was over, people jumping out of their seats and begging for more. There was no need for a VIP decision this early in the game, but when she turned briefly in Lucia's direction, the royal vampire winked at her, almost imperceptibly from so high up in the stands. Aisha stayed on the sandy arena for as long as she could, raising her dirk in the air and licking it free of blood. That was her gimmick, the personal branding of her gladiatrix persona. The crowd lost their minds. After a minute or so, the executioner signaled her off the field, neatly popping two silver shells into Michelle's skull, turning her into fiery ashes. Aisha was rather pleased with herself.

"Did you see that shit man? You were clean as fuck out there girl, I swear!" Aisha found herself trapped within Isis's friendly embrace, confused as to why she was blushing so hard. Isis had come to be one of the first friends she had made in the tournament, along with bubbly Kylecia and a ferocious female named Stray. Isis had long, flowing black hair that traveled just beneath her lower back, in a glistening straight sea of darkness. When fighting, the crowd had nicknamed her Cleopatra, for she went the full nine yards in portraying herself as an Egyptian queen, from the overdone eyeliner to the gold bangles around her wrists and feet. Outside of matches, she was dressed much more casually, but was no less beautiful.

"They're cheering encore again, does that mean I have to go three in a row? What if I die from exhaustion or something?" Aisha sarcastically laughed. Isis was practically in tears, bracing herself on Aisha's shoulder just to stand. Her laughter was much louder than most girls her size. The woman was hardly 5'2" but her laughter could fill an auditorium.

"Go win one for me girl! Fuck that bitch up hardcore!"

"Oh you can consider it done!" Aisha laughed, trotting back onto the field. The moment the artificial lighting hit her, the stadium was in a raucous all over again. As per usual, she was brought the shiny red dirk, and a pathetic wooden shield. She'd come to realize that better equipment came with more wins. The more blood she spilled, the more money the crowd waged on each of her battles, the better equipment she'd have. Aisha also realized that there was no way in hell she'd use a katana here, regardless of how much skill she had with it. She mentally braced herself, then marched to the center of the arena, making a dramatic spectacle of tying her non-existent laces. Golden filigree comfortably clutched her leg all the way to the knee, giving her a fashionable look. The crowd surely agreed, whether her countenance riled them up for blood, or her hardly clothed figure appeased their eyes. She could care less which it was. As her competitor wandered onto the field, baring her fangs, Aisha shook her head. This was going to be easy.

Kaiser's eyes left the arena the moment Lucia rose from her seat. She had an overly satisfied grin plastered onto her porcelain face, exiting the safety of the VIP box without even the scent of a security team. He was going to make a move, while he still had the chance.

"Hold the line guys." Kaiser whispered to his team, rising from his seat. He'd blocked the other wolves from reading his mind for personal reasons, an override only Warwolf was able to break. Even so, both Keiji and Lucien nodded their assent willfully. After clearing the excruciatingly long row of spectators, many of which cursed him for passing their fields of vision, Kaiser ducked beneath the stands into a long hallway that wrapped around the circumference of the coliseum. Aside from an over-stocked concession stand, the hallways were dramatically vacant, with main security patrolling each exit to the parking lot, along with keeping watchful hawk eyes over the stands. Heaven couldn't have given him a better moment than this.

Kaiser's nose picked up her scent over 50 meters away. Lucia was walking rather slowly, as if taking in the sights, with no clear destination in mind. If he was going to trap her for an interrogation, he'd have to do it fast. Lurking in the shadows was nice, but everything would be ruined the moment spectators left the stands. Kaiser prayed that the dirk warrior would at least try to make this match long. She was kicking ass in the arena, making the entire spectacle of gambling look like a joke. With just four matches squared away, consecutively without a break, her benefactor had made over ten million dollars. While being a freelance mercenary on the side had its perks, he'd never seen money like that. Leave it to the parasites to come up with a rather ridiculous way to make insane amounts of money. Who knows how many people would end up dead following the event. Money had a destructive power even greater than the bloodsuckers'.

Lucia's smell tickled his nose again, inviting him closer against his will. He couldn't figure out why, but his vision was hazy, and his movement had slowed to a crawl. Was he smelling something poisonous? If he was, it was the most delicious smelling poison he'd ever inhaled.

"Why are you following me?" Kaiser did a double take behind him, frantically searching for the face that matched the voice, but the hallway was still empty, save for the random portraits on the walls of past champions, all of which were female. When she repeated her statement, he closed his eyes and deduced that it must have just been in his head. Lucia must have been playing with his mind, a psychic skill he hadn't come across in the blood lovers for a long time. A sharp pain in the center of his forehead make him stumble backward and open his eyes. The voice hadn't been in his head.

"I said why are you following me?" Lucia's voice was authoritative while she rounded on him pointing an accusatory index finger. His gut reaction kicked in, and Kaiser had her by the throat, crushing her windpipe. Swiftly, he forced her off her feet, slamming her skull into a stone wall the shade of sandstone. The deep slit in her dress brushed against his exposed thighs, for he'd chosen to wear shorts that day against his better judgment. The instant their bodies made contact, it gave him pause, until he realized who he was choking, an evil, kidnapping demon bitch.

"Kryzon Scalera. I don't want anything else, no mind games, no psychological bullshit, just a location. You know who I'm talking about. There's no one else in this country that has that name, and one of your kind has him hostage. Where the fuck is he?" Kaiser was practically barking at her, throat ripping fangs snapping with each word. Glancing at his surroundings just to be safe, he pinned an arm behind her back threateningly, also unwilling to let loose his vice grip on her neck, leading her to a spacious janitor's closet, and locking the door behind them. Since Lucien was able not only to get them into the tournament, but to additionally snag the blueprints of the coliseum before the match, things were going very smoothly. He'd have to thank Lucien for his sizable contribution to the mission later.

"What a very interesting mind you have, my prince. Why would I tell you anything?" Lucia's voice became high pitched, and grated on his ears as well as his nerves. He would have to make his point clearer.

"Because you value your life, you undead fuck." Kaiser kneed her in her stomach harshly, then wrenched her arm up, to the point where it was almost at its breaking point. The only thing about this confrontation that unnerved him was the fact that she showed no fear, nor pain on her face. As she taunted him, Lucia was practically grinning with untold amounts of joy. _What was up with that?_

"Maybe you want to kiss me."

Kaiser jumped forward, instinctively reaching at his hip for a sawed off shotgun, disappointed at its absence. Lucia was no longer in his iron grip, and had spoken the tease directly into his ear, from behind. He could still smell her breath, which was as fresh as the high-dollar perfume she was wearing. Whipping around with a right hook, Kaiser found himself staring at the door again, Lucia's laughter in his other ear, sensually close.

"Stop fucking around!" Kaiser almost yelled, putting his voice into check at the last moment. The last thing he needed was to attract undue attention to a custodian's closet. Heat was filling his body fast, and he could feel his toenails lengthening slightly. Instead of exploding into a partial transformation, he concentrated even harder. _Had he ever even seen the real Lucia?_

As if answering his question, the locked door burst open, Lucia grabbing his collar banging him into the shelves that rimmed the room. Buckets of Pine-Sol and Oxyclean fell to the ground, littering the floor with a sticky mess and a dangerously pungent odor in the air. The door slammed shut on its own. A sharp knife was at his heart before he could even react; Lucia was quite fast.

"I don't kill or kidnap wolves, you've got the wrong vampire." Lucia's voice was cold, as serrated as the knife she poised over his vital organ. Her eyes were the deepest scarlet, reminiscent of fresh blood on a white surface. She didn't intimidate him, but she was quite fearsome for a royal vampire, he had to admit. "For future reference, Minerva is who you're looking for." Lucia continued, listening to his heartbeat, for it intrigued her very much. Before she could slip into a fantasy of shoving the knife into it, his hot breath was formulating a reply.

"You're a liar, all of you are." Kaiser let out a growl, mentally scanning the room for a pointed weapon he could use. There was an emergency crowbar in the opposite corner of the room that would do fine, but he'd never be able to reach it. When he looked down to check her stance for a sweep kick, his eyes stopped again at the enormous slit in her liquid black dress. He quickly deviated, relaxing his eyes at her diamond earrings instead. Her stance was the perfect defense. Kaiser just hoped she hadn't caught on to the fact that again, she had given him a momentary lapse in his better judgment.

"And all of you are dogs, but at least dogs have a beating heart and I know that yours believes me." Lucia didn't go as far as to bat her eyelashes at him, but her gaze was walking a fine line between blatantly trustworthy and dangerously seductive, all working for her good. Seconds ago she looked like a murderer. Now she looked...almost human.

Kaiser cut a sharp elbow across her neck that she neatly dodged, but it wasn't because the knife was pointed at his heart. He needed physical space away from her. He hated her, he hated her kind, and he hated that instead of threatening her and receiving the answers, she'd handed them to him on a silver platter. His pride and ego were in shambles, and the room was suffocating with her presence. To make matters worse, bleach and antioxidants were killer on his olfactory system, muddling him even more. Kaiser needed to get out of there. Even so, there was no escape, for Lucia was blocking the only doorway. While she knew what he truly was on the inside, he wasn't going to risk a transformation here. As a leader he had to think for his entire team, and alerting every vampire within the stadium was more than just a bad idea. Even so, Lucia could spill the beans regardless, which would only complicate matters. He needed collateral to be able to trust her word alone as well. Kaiser had no choice but to play his ace now.

"What happened to the other two VIP boxes? Your fat cat friends decide to finally go off each themselves and give their earnings to the one most worthy?" The bait was set.

"Minerva happened. She's trying to rig the tournament so that her fighter Kendra wins. She'll do that by any means necessary." Lucia spoke, rather properly. She found it interesting that the wolf knew about the occupants of the previous VIP boxes, which meant that this wasn't the first time they'd illegally gotten into this event. It also meant that according to what he was hinting at, he possibly knew about their assassinations as well. As a show of good faith however; she tucked the knife at a holder hidden beneath the lining of her dress. The process was done centi-seconds slower than normal. Lucia knew his brain was eating it up, divided between the severity of his words and her natural beauty. It was exactly as she wanted it.

"So let's make a deal huh?" Kaiser stated, his confident demeanor returning, giving him power. She noticed the change in him immediately and licked her lips. She wasn't sure if it was voluntary or not. Lucia watched him closely with her scarlet eyes, surely taking in the fact that he wasn't nervous or hesitant any longer. This was an entirely new person.

"Name your terms." Lucia eyed him suspiciously. Those that made deals were those who only wanted material gain and she wasn't into charity work by a long shot.

"We, the wolves of Sutonokami will protect Impresia Vela from harm during the remainder of this tournament, since you obviously don't need extra hands." Kaiser's voice dripped with sarcasm, but he nonetheless continued. "This will allow you to keep the facade of innocence, while being a third party to everything. We'll get our hands dirty for you. Without Impresia's death, you will always have a third vampire to vote, and thus a majority rule every time if you gain Impresia's favor. In addition, Minerva cannot sleight the odds any further, giving your candidate a better chance to win. In return, you keep your mouth shut about us being here, helping us to blend in since we'd only be doing our jobs as bodyguards. I also want a cut in the winnings, I can imagine you'd know what kind of figure I'm talking about." Kaiser leveled his gaze at the vampire, who generally seemed accepting of the terms, however, he was not expecting Lucia to demand more.

"I want you at my beck and call Kaiser, for the remainder of this tournament, the length of our agreement. I know you must lead your team, and I know your team will protect Impresia, but I want you. Any time I call, any time you hear my voice in your head, it overrides that mission. Just you. Then and only then will we have a deal." Lucia didn't leave him space to speak. She could already tell that he was weighing in on the gravity of the situation. Should Lucia snitch on him, not only would they be killed right away for infiltrating the event, should they escape, they would permanently be barred access. Until Sutonokami could corner Minerva, there was no way they'd ever find Kryzon. Servitude hit him in a different way however. It was a game changer. Kaiser wasn't foolish enough to believe that entering into a contract with a vampire, verbal or otherwise wasn't going to be binding; he knew better than that. His word would not only cost him his team, but an innocent captive, and his life as well. _What was there left to do?_ It was going to be hell explaining this to the rest of Sutonokami. Keiji would be more understanding than anyone, followed closely by Warwolf. Getting things by Lucien wouldn't be so easy, especially when he'd been busting his ass to get them this far. Kaiser had no idea how that would play out.

"I'm going to leave now since the main event is over." Lucia began, turning her back on him, the liquid black dress shimmering with her movement. "By the way Kaiser, Impresia will be leaving soon. She doesn't stay for the later festivities, so I'd recommend meeting her by your shiny wolf motorcycle. How ironic." Lucia laughed, disappearing from the room. Kaiser began to hear a multitude of footsteps and decided it was best to follow her advice, first getting back to his team. Though it made him slightly anxious that Lucia knew his name without asking for it, the thought of his future bondage made him shudder. No matter how much the black dress flitted through his mind, the thought of serving a vampire would permanently put a bitter taste in his mouth that he just couldn't shake.

Rather than return to the stands, wading through the patrons that were already leaving, Kaiser sent out a mental alert to the rest of the team, catching them up to speed with the next step in their mission to find Kryzon, conveniently omitting Lucia's additional terms of the agreement. As always, there was no dissent among the members who were in the area, while Warwolf's mind was a silent whisper. He was probably still in a celestial trance.

Kaiser approached his motorcycle, finding a new beauty to appreciate, while he waited for his team and ultimately Impresia. The bike was custom made from head to toe, a finely crafted wolf head protruding from the front that glistened in the pale moonlight. Brand new headlights made up the cycle's eyes, with the suspension in the shape of powerful clawed legs. There was even a tail above the center of three exhaust pipes. Nitrous Oxide was a given. Kaiser ran his hand down the perfectly waxed metal, doing a quick once over of several interior compartments. His sawed off shotgun, along with several of his other favorite weapons, were where they should have been, everything checked out, there were no signs of vampire sabotage.

"Did you see her on the way?" Kaiser muttered, without turning his head. Behind him, Lucien and Keiji came to a halt, looking bummed since they couldn't stay for the following concert and cavorting.

"Lackluster black chick with ugly red hair, long pencil neck and a blue dot in the center of her big ass forehead? She's kinda hard to miss." Lucien snickered, jerking his thumb to the left where the royal vampire was leaving, a thick crowd of security holding off any who dared come close. Kaiser pushed off his motorcycle then, leading his team straight to the royal vampire. She turned to them and notified security to give them clearance, before icily sliding inside her black stretch limousine without as much as a word.

"Keiji, you do the talking." Kaiser commanded, letting his beta go ahead of him. Kaiser had had enough of the royal blood-letters for a day. No sooner than Keiji entered the vehicle, the door slammed and the car sped from the lot.

"Son of a bitch!" Kaiser cursed, sprinting back to his motorcycle, Lucien flying onto it behind him. Within moments, he had gunned it to life and was making a beeline for the rapidly retreating limousine. If Lucia was lying to him, so help him God, he'd lay every one of those so-called royal vampires to rest himself.

He was just lying there, covered in blood, motionless. There was no one around to stop her. After some internal contemplation, Tiffany tucked a curl behind her ear and raised the knife high. Blade didn't move in response, his chest barely rising with each breath that he took. Nevertheless, she could hear his wretched heartbeat, drumming again and again. She wanted this all to end.

Even so, her pallid hands shook with the knife. Part of her was afraid of the unseen consequences her actions would no doubt induce. She knew that once she killed Blade, Vladimir would track her to the ends of the Earth, even if it meant his plan failed. She knew that a life with Onyx would be impossible afterward, just like living alongside Aisha was near impossible now. Thinking about how boring her life was before she'd spotted the Daywalker in Lotus didn't help. In any case, she was ready to kill him. There wasn't much to live for in a world driven by panic and chaos. As much as she hated to say it, it was vampires, her own species, who had made the world this way.

Tiffany plunged the knife at Blade's chest, but never connected. A black substance completely engulfed him, throwing her off her feet as a thick column cemented him to the bed, the outer roots attached to the ceiling while the lower roots went through the floor. The entire thing looked like a transparent black spider's web that you would find outdoors, but when Tiffany tried to slash it, the surface was as hard as steel, concealing Blade within its protective presence.

"What the hell?" Tiffany jumped back again when the entire structure pulsed, sending a red shockwave throughout the black crystalline web. Soon, the pulsing became consistent at one time per minute. Tiffany threw the failure of a knife in the sink and scrutinized the structure for points of entry or weakness. There were none. Try as she might to claw the roots at the floor or those on the ceiling, nothing gave way. The only sign of life inside was the one pulse a minute which rocked the room.

Tiffany pulled out her phone and shot Onyx a phone call, but didn't get a response. Instead, she opted for sending an urgent message via pager, which she knew he wore at all times. As old as the technology was, there was something about it that drew Onyx's interest, and that was perfect for directing him there to the penthouse base. Tiffany rattled off an address and then waited, the room vibrating every minute while the structure engulfing the bed remained otherwise unchanged.

When Onyx entered the penthouse a full half hour later, he was slightly limping and had a few nasty bruises on his skin. Before he could get two steps in the door, Tiffany was all over him, assessing his condition and trying to get him to lay down. It wasn't the time for that, he'd only been in a car accident. Blade had thrown down with a vampire and had gotten his ass handed to him. That didn't happen.

"Which room?" Onyx asked, looking around the foyer in confusion. Clearly, in all their years of rotating, he'd never visited this base. Tiffany scoffed at having been brushed off, but she led Onyx to Blade anyway. Rather than attack the huge pulsing chrysalis, Onyx felt the outside perimeter for a bit, then came to a logical conclusion that Tiffany had been too distracted to consider. "He's changing on the inside of this. I saw him get hurt badly in the fight against the vampire who's been causing all of this madness lately. I think whatever is happening in there is enabling him to grow stronger, but I can't tell you if Blade's humanity is going to remain intact during the process." Onyx sighed and tapped the surface again, doubting that even Blade's weapon could penetrate whatever material that was encasing his body.

"So what do we do?" Tiffany asked, while the room rocked again.

"We watch and wait. Just watch and wait."

"How are things looking out there?" Syfy asked, placing a hand on a lead intern's shoulder whose name was Esperanza Pereira. She flinched at the touch, and gave him a gloomy smile.

"I'm tracking reports and counting tallies as fast as I can. The numbers are rising. Whatever these new vampires are, they feed in excess, and aside from the sunken in eye sockets and dripping fangs, well it's hard to tell that they're actually dead. We shoot them, and they don't turn into ash, they bleed; they die. They moan in agony, but can't say a word. They're lifeless. What I mean to say is, we have officers hesitating, and getting butchered because of it out there. We've evacuated most of the city to a few shelters in southern New Jersey, but with a population this size, it's only a matter of time before we have to place the whole city on lockdown, evacuated or not. It'll be like sealing the entrance to the lion's den, with us trapped inside." Esperanza's voice cracked, she looked crazy.

Syfy could tell she was shaken up, he couldn't blame her. If he had family of his own to worry about, he'd be pulling his hair out and God knows what else right now. "Listen Esperanza, your family is going to be okay. You must hold onto your religious faith now more than ever."

Esperanza made the sign of the cross over her own chest, before nodding in silence. She was the same age as Syfy, thirty-six, and yet, tears still fell from her eyes. Instead of chastising her, Syfy pulled up a chair and laid his hand on her back. Esperanza broke then, sobs exploding from within, making it impossible for her to monitor the screens any longer. Syfy had nine more members working on the same job, but his hands were tied tightly. If he gave everyone leave, he would assuage their fears, but then there would be no way to keep a lock on the current situation. He opted for the same assuaging balm, just on a smaller scale.

"Alright listen up!" Syfy left Esperanza's side to walk around the room, drawing every eye. "I want you all to take a forty minute break. Call your families, grab some food, and clear your heads. The next couple of days are going to be very busy, I can assure you. I'll need each of you in top shape for this, as we try to clear the streets as best as we can, given the circumstances. I know you may be wondering if your families and homes are in harm's way, but let me reassure you, they are completely safe. When the day is done, if your home hasn't been cleared, we will provide secondary housing for each and every one of you. Your contributions here are saving not only us, but thousands outside the organization. Keep it up." Syfy ended, waiting for each associate to leave the room. Of all the appreciated looks and relieved expressions, Esperanza's was the most pronounced. She whispered God bless you when she passed him.

Syfy took the elevator down to a lower floor, and found himself traveling to a room overrun by the hum of computer processors. There was only one man here, an ace hacker who didn't have his own name. Most of the time he requested to be left alone, but this was an urgent time. Syfy simply referred to him as Ace, and only when he really had to.

"What's up Chuck?" The boy asked without looking up. He had a baseball cap shoved onto his head, with sandy brown hair obscuring most of his face from the public. He also had a mousy build and fingers that typed over one hundred words a minute. Next to the singular chair that was surrounded on three sides by monitors, TV's and various forms of external hardware, was an ice cold mini fridge, where the hacker retrieved a bottle of Sunny D, his left hand still flying on the Bluetooth red laser keyboard in front of the chair. The boy was literally a day over eighteen, with technological genius lifetimes beyond that.

"Get me an up to date fatality count on the three fronts, a video stream and progress report of Anubis's squadron, and the status report on the five mechs we've dispatched."

"That it?" Within half a minute, three printers were printing, two of the large plasma screens had changed while the boy continued playing League of Legends on the main computer screen. "Shit's getting real out there man. For every new eyeless vamp this entity creates, on average, two people die. There's still over 100,000 civilians that are still in the city to feed on, and we haven't found the source of this…contagion yet."

Syfy cringed at the numbers. The officer death toll had hit twenty, and that was at the top of the hour, forty minutes ago. That was twenty deaths too many, and twenty funerals that would have to be arranged. The vampires were growing in number every second. If they didn't identify the source of this soon, the city would definitely be overrun, and the conflict would spill into neighboring states. Syfy skimmed over the mech stats, noting that in a few hours they would have to be recalled. Other than that, each of the suits was in perfect condition, without any engineering flaws to speak of. Syfy was about to look at the plasmas to see how Anubis was doing when his cell phone blasted out Yuki Naga's ringtone. Syfy answered before the second ring, he didn't have a choice in the matter.

"Lockdown, do it now. For the protection of your citizens and the surrounding city-states, I'm mandating martial law until you get this matter resolved. Your time is limited. If it gets too bad, you won't only have to deal with me, but the United States Government as well. Putting that aside, we've heard your request for troops, and are dispatching officers by air from Raleigh, North Carolina. Their ETA is within a few hours."

"Thank you Mr. Naga, my sincerest gratitude." It was all Syfy could say. It was all he was permitted to.

"Dou itashimashite1." The phone line disconnected.

"Martial law eh Chuck? I'll send a notice now, cutting the streetlights, sending watch choppers, enforcing arbitrary curfew, etcetera. As a precaution, I recommend sending out a few dedicated patrol cars to announce curfew on the street level and to advise remaining citizens against driving. Trak-Automatic has to be shut down due to the huge power consumption by the nanosuits, so we won't be able to control speeds, or avert any accidents. We don't need more preventable deaths, especially in a situation like this." Ace's eyes returned to the laser keyboard.

Syfy nodded and placed his head in his hands. The Nexus was falling apart. With government officials and officer families being the first to evacuate, the city currently had no government. Even as police officers, it was impossible to distinguish who committed which criminal activity, and terror washed the entire city in an uncomfortable tsunami. People were afraid to leave their homes, and there was war in the streets. _How would he be able to fix this?_

"Chuck, you need more tacticians like Anubis. Do you realize that this man has had more kills with his four man squadron than your five mechs and all of your other riot squads combined? He hasn't had any injuries so far, and moves lightning fast in all that chaos. Where the hell did you find this military super-soldier?" The boy popped a Skittle into his mouth, still clicking away.

Syfy ignored the comments instead diverting the topic. "Ace, what do we have on that side project I told you about?" Syfy moved to lean against a wall, since he was tired of standing straight. There were no other chairs in the room, save for Ace's hacker seat.

"Vampire traitor? I've got nothing so far. Aside from the last infiltration incident, there hasn't been a pure vampire to walk within these walls in over five years. I've checked and rechecked the scanners, the lasers, the cameras and the heat sensors. I've got nothing. By the way, they need you at the blood testing, just got an email from Nadira."

"Thanks Ace, keep me posted." Syfy said, leaving the room behind. It was just another thing on the ever growing list of things that were driving him insane lately. There was a traitor in their midst, as unidentifiable as the source to this new vampire revolution. He was tasked with finding out who it was, before it was too late.

"Blood tests now? What kind of shit is this? I mean, if I were a vampire, I'd have bitten the fuck out of Jonathan by now, how about you?" The woman next to her giggled.

"And where would you bite him huh Nikki?" Their conversation calmed when a nurse came by to take a small vial of blood from their arms. They'd signed release forms in advance, and were somehow trapped in a score of ridiculously mundane vampire trials, from physical aptitude to dental checkups. No one was afraid, but everyone was tired.

"Thank you for doing this." Syfy personally thanked the woman, patting her arm. She looked like she was about to faint right then and there. He then went down the line and thanked every associate, one by one, apologizing for the toilsome procedure. At the end of the day, no one was angry at him. It was just another task to be checked off for another busy day of saving everyone and everything they loved.

Panther tore his way through the body of a car, not feeling any pain. The gauntlets seemed glued to his flesh, practically part of him. No sooner than he had clawed through the rooftop exterior, he was lunging at Markus, who cuffed him in his shoulder, sending him back to the pavement, his body rolling like a newspaper.

"Your team would have never survived my assaults, you must know that by now." Markus boomed, slamming his fist down on the road. Panther adjusted his legs just in time to avoid broken bones, and drew blood on the giant's hand when he grabbed for one of Panther's limbs. There was a horrible amount of black blood exiting the fresh wound, but Markus wasn't going to die from just that. In his mind, Panther pictured each of the dozens of scars coating Markus's torso to be a life threatening wound that hadn't finished the job. He'd added a few himself, though they had yet to scab over. Panther's wounds all took a long time to heal, and he solemnly believed he was doing palpable damage to the Elder.

"I am not my team, I am their leader." Panther slashed at Markus, who blocked by ripping a street sign from the concrete. Because of the force behind Panther's attack, the metal relented, and the golden claws split the sign in two. Markus launched both pieces at his enemy, but missed, smashing the outer glass of an empty McDonald's. Panther literally leaped high onto Markus's back, and impaled him twice more. The vampire let out a huge roar, claws scrabbling for him. Panther again was liquid motion. With a super strength sweep kick, he had the giant floored, but only for seconds, before Markus was up and running away from him.

"Coward!" Panther cried, pursuing Markus right away. For a humongous guy, Markus's sprinting speed was at an Olympic level. Panther watched helplessly as Markus turned five more innocent stragglers into soulless vampires, who attacked him on the spot. He didn't have time to be slowed down, or to show remorse when he killed them. Panther had to keep moving forward. Yet, as time passed and he killed and he killed, Keith realized that Markus was long gone, and fighting vampire after vampire was starting to tax both his body and his mind. He needed to rest, to return to his team and make sure everyone was okay.

Slightly depressed that he had to abandon the task at hand, Panther made his way back to HQ on foot, passing out at the front door due to his massive amount of sustained severe injuries. Adrenaline could hold him no longer, and dropped his body in a cruel abandonment.

Anubis waved two fingers, signaling an advance. Moving soundlessly, his left hand man swept ahead of him, annihilating a room full of vampires, spraying shells but at the same time not wasting any. Anubis didn't dare move until the man let them know it was clear. Once inside, the four soldiers immediately fanned out, checking and double checking for the undead with an extreme efficiency. Against his better wishes, Anubis split the team up, with two men heading to the basement and one heading above. He didn't doubt that the man heading to the roof would run into trouble, but he trusted him enough to leave him alone. He had some more scoping to do on the main level.

His vampire senses were telling him that something big was on the way, and he had to be outside to see it. Crouched low, Anubis exited the side of the building, gluing himself to the ugly brick wall of the adjacent alleyway. He heard a few gunshots, then received an all clear via radio from the squad members in the basement. He told them to perform an additional sweep to check for evidence, not that they'd find anything promising. He had selected his squad with purpose, choosing men that he knew would kill outside of the law, for what they thought to be a just cause. No sooner than Markus finished creating his legion, he'd turn them all into vampires, and then turn them against SPECS.

He waited a few moments, blending into the side of the alleyway, glancing up and down the roadway. For a street called Main Street, the entire thing was quiet as a church mouse. He needed to bring the action there. Anubis closed his eyes for a second, emanating a forceful aura that would draw a small crowd of vampires his way. Within five minutes, there was a group of the soulless clamoring down the street in his direction. That's when he saw it.

The mech had been gliding along the rooftops before the man inside noticed the main street crowd. When he did, the machine leaped from the building and soundlessly landed on the roadway, speeding forward like a jet propelled engine. The arms morphed into enormous rapiers and one by one, it picked off the group. Anubis paid no mind to the vampires, instead, he analyzed every facet of the machine, from the massive power consumption to the psychological input required to execute the weapon shift. The confrontation had taken all of two minutes, the machine being far superior to mindless, starving creatures of the night. As he thought these things, Anubis returned to the building, heading to the rooftop. He still hadn't heard from the man he'd sent above, which either meant he was dead, or had run into difficulty. With thoughts of the technology he was soon to acquire fresh on his mind, Anubis continued his act, waiting for the moment to spring the ultimate trap.

Blade already knew where he was, locked within his own mind. The landscape was black and dead, with the only color saturating the sky, a blood red moon which made the clouds an orange tint for miles. In the distance, there were nothing but churches and cross-shaped gravestones as far as he could see. Blade was standing motionless, but the world around him rotated at his will, giving him an arbitrary 360 degree vision. He remembered that he was not meditating, but for the life of him, he didn't realize how he'd gotten into this state. _Did he pass out?_

"It's about time you look my way Blade. Your self-righteous methods are no longer strong enough to handle business."

Blade shifted the world around him until he was facing a naked man ten feet away, perched atop a gravestone like a crow. The man almost mirrored him in physical appearance, down to weight and muscle mass, but there were gleaming fangs in his mouth, and his face was entirely different. The naked entity snapped his fingers, and a deep blue trench coat appeared around his body, matching denim jeans pinned to his waist by a trendy silver belt. Blade couldn't look down to see what apparel he was wearing; he never could when trapped in his own mind. All he could do was stare while the vampire stood to his feet, stretching his arms over his head as if waking from a deep slumber.

"My methods have always worked, and will continue to do so. I _handle_ my business." Blade watched the vampire cackle, his body rocking in dramatic fits. At the end of the exasperation, two blood covered wings unfolded from beneath the vampire's skin, fanning out in an impressive six foot wingspan.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Wake up! You turned a woman into a Daywalker that's still walking the Earth today! You haven't found her yet, and are letting her do as she damn well pleases! I'm surprised we haven't seen another fucking Daywalker in the Nexus yet! You know she's here don't you? If her fiancée is in the Nexus, and the vampire who turned her is in the Nexus, then why would she be anywhere else? You're a stupid motherfucker if you think that this bitch is going to hold out on biting to turn anyone for the rest of her life. She's a Daywalker man, she quite literally has forever to fuck things up for you."

Blade watched him closely, though all his counterpart was doing was shaking his head pitifully and pacing while he ranted. Even though Blade was in no mood to be lectured, it was something he'd overlooked rather easily, among other things. _Was he slipping with age?_

"Don't even get me started about the amount of blood that cop Jonathan siphoned from your arm! If I was fucking Vladimir himself all I would have to do is pass the academy exam and I'd have access to the most powerful shit on this side of the planet! You need to step it up. Seriously. Or do you want to constantly end up gettin' your ass whooped by a vampire with a hook on his goddamn hand?" By the time he finished, he was inches away from Blade's face, wings tense and fanned out with the intensity of his yellow-eyed glare. Even as far as vampires went, the man before him had the countenance of a snake, eye slits taking in every detail, nostrils flaring out with rage. Blade could imagine a forked tongue emanating from his counterpart's gritted teeth.

"I'm not giving in to your control, if that's what you mean. You got a long way to go before I pull some shit like that muthafucka."

"Oh ho ho ho! I wouldn't go saying things that you can't even back up. What was the phrase momma always used to say? Don't write a check that yo ass can't cash? I'll even show you what she meant. Call this, payday." The entity circled Blade faster than his mind could rotate the world around him. Soon, there was nothing but another sinister shadow encircling him, always out of ocular reach. Blade was enraged that the creature had called his mother its own, but had realized a long time ago that there was going to be a day when his serum's potency wouldn't be enough to hold his inner demon back. This fight was going to be dangerous.

Blade screamed, failing to endure what felt like the meat of his back opening up like window shutters. The vampire created such pain in Blade that it felt like the demon was crawling inside of his body in order to take control of his physical being. That's exactly what was happening. In seconds, the pain was gone, but Blade had dropped to his knees anyway, a cold sweat running down his face while his breath refused to come fast enough. His heart was either beating too fast for him to count, or too slow for it to matter; Blade could not tell. Fangs forcefully tore out his gums, a primal howl ready to be released from deep within his diaphragm. His shoulders started itching to the point of madness, and he could feel wings forming beneath the blades like hundreds of worms wriggling beneath his skin. His fingernails sharpened into vicious, jet-black death dealers, and he heard his spine crack, oddly increasing his visual acuity and depth perception. The same itching from his back took over his eyelids, and he cried out again. Too many things were happening at once. He tried to fight it, he wanted to fight it, but he just didn't possess the willpower.

"I am the night. I am the fear within the hearts of man. I am a day-walking vampire. I am Blade." Blade knew his other side had taken control, speaking the words through his lips, but there was no type of disconnect whatsoever. Blade could feel each and every time the muscles in his lips and tongue had moved, knowing that he had willed them to do so without demonic influence. His breathing slowed to a relaxing pace, and the sweating ceased after a minute. Blade was able to stand shortly after, feeling as though a huge burden had left his shoulders.

"Ya see? I didn't even have to get my lazy ass up off this tombstone." Blade found that he could no longer shift the world to his whim. Instead, he moved on his own for the first time since he'd been there. He found the man, still naked, still perched on top of the same exact gravestone he had been on. Blade didn't have to look down to know that the headstone belonged to him. A piece of him had died today. Instead, Blade outstretched his hand, easily catching the black shades his disturbing equivalent tossed him. Acceptance was as simple as placing the shades over his yellow eyes.

"I'm surprised Lucia let you out for drinks. Then again, winning four consecutive matches on your first day in the tournament hasn't been done since Kendra first started competing." Amara pulled her mid-length black skirt down more, slightly annoyed. While she thought the outfit Aisha had bought her was cute as a whole, it was much too restricting. She liked having skin show, and enjoyed the feel of animal hides much more than synthetic materials. She was humoring Aisha by wearing the outfit, just like Aisha was spending her time off drinking with her rather than doing more important tasks. Amara's glowing smile captured the essence of their friendship perfectly.

"Kendra, the bitch with sixteen wins already? Don't compare me to that ignorant, self-serving slut." Aisha spat, causing Amara to giggle. They glided into bar and were drinking Fireballs before 9 o' clock hit.

"I see you have the gladiatrix mouth on you as well." Amara smirked, playing oblivious to the clear cut looks she was getting from across the room. They were all simple minded. Boys would be boys.

"Girl you already know! I figure, why not learn new things and make some friends while slaughtering my way to the top?" Aisha laughed loudly, spilling a small amount of her drink on the table. She was about to bend down and lick it up off the dirty plastic table when Amara grabbed her forehead to stop her.

"Slow down now. I know everything may seem wonderful and all to you, but be careful in there. Friends aren't really who they seem. You've gotta remember that at a moment's notice it could be you fighting against any one of them in there. Betrayal runs strong in these tournaments, so you shouldn't put too much trust in any of these women." Amara's mind was in a faraway place. She released Aisha only when she was sure that her determination to drink stayed within her glass. Aisha disregarded her statements regardless.

"I never axchew why you came all the way to America in the flirst pace. Why here in le Nexus spasific, splacific, pacifically?" Aisha was starting to slur her words, wobbling in her chair. Amara was grateful that the backing was high, but it wouldn't protect Aisha from falling sideways out of the chair and face-first onto the blue and white checkered tile floor. She let the bartender know to cut her off for the rest of the night. Aisha had to be plastered.

"Is that the alcohol talking or are you just really curious?" Amara teased. Aisha replied by flipping her the bird, except she used her ring finger instead by mistake. Amara tried not to laugh. It was very difficult.

"Well besides the armband which was stolen from me by a collector, the very one on your arm right now, there are a couple of reasons." Amara blushed, but Aisha was far too gone to notice. The vampire tucked a few locks behind her ear and then rubbed her cheek affectionately against the gold colored band she wore around her arm just underneath her shoulder.

"I take very very very very good care of it. Had to kill forthy power, but it helps me fall aspeep in night." Aisha laughed for little to no reason at all. She wasn't making much sense.

"The tribe's numbers are thinning. You know there are also no men in it as well. So I guess you could say..." Amara stopped her anecdote in lieu of strong snoring coming from across the table. She let Aisha relax, taking time to idly play with her hair and viciously glare at anyone who gave Aisha a once over in her condition. This city was going to hell. As strange as it was, there were few refuges in the city untouched at all by the soulless, but those were mainly bars and nightclubs. The people who were unafraid of dying and living a hedonistic life were probably still human and still alive, though she doubted white-hatted police officers would give people any more incentive to hide in such sleazy places.

She thought back to the Nzinga tribe back home in South America, fending for themselves without a leader, unsure of the coming future. It really hit her hard. The sudden appearance of vampires had led the nearby villages to a mutual destruction, putting her people on the run. Sad to say, the only time her tribe conducted business with outsiders excluding trade was for sex. Without anyone nearby, her tribe of warrior women was doomed to a fugitive life without any hope of a future...unless she brought someone back. Someone built like a strong warrior with deep ties to their own cultural roots.

Amara was so trapped in her own daydream that she hadn't seen Aisha rise, completely lucid, and walk back to the entrance of the bar, preparing to leave.

The scent was pure ecstasy and had dragged her out of sleep easily. She squeezed her thighs close together and attempted to walk as best as she could, trying to leave the bar in silence, damning the automatic bell that went off when the door opened. When Aisha stepped into the night, the frigid air only made the scent even stronger, hitting her in such a way that she practically had her nose to the air sniffing, like a bloodhound might be as it tracked something on land. She hoped Amara hadn't seen her. The smell was so intoxicating that it made her chest swell and her breasts ache. Her libido was flying through the roof, making her want to float. _What was it?_ Aisha aimlessly walked through the streets, fearing nothing, tracking the lingering scent unarmed. She couldn't wait to feast on whatever the source of this titillating aroma was.

"Give me a break. You put a little anarchy in the streets and suddenly we're back in the caveman days spending weeks arguing about whose stick is bigger, killing if ours isn't. This is unbelievable." Mariko crossed her arms while Joe digitally erased another team of hunters from their top 50 list. Alavitesh was getting revenge for Salazar's death by hunting and eviscerating seven of their best vampire hunting teams, and counting. They were using the recent outbreak of vampires as a quaint little cover-up to take advantage of Vizuela's hunters, sending them to their dooms. She didn't know why Blade had done Salazar in, but it certainly wasn't helping matters at Vizuela.

"Well the real question is do we retaliate or not?" Joe asked, watching the new rankings adjust to the deaths. Aisha was more or less one big quarry away from being class-A, while Vici's rank crept ever so closely to Blade's which also increased. For a second, Joe watched Keiji Igasho's rank sit at 35, but as soon as it had, there was a humongous transfer of money that placed him back at rank 50. No one else was watching the board.

"You damn right we retaliate! If someone kills your brother, are you just going to sit there and let them kill your sister too?" Sterk stood to his feet and began pacing quickly, his fists shaking with rage.

"You sure are one to talk about family, especially since you haven't unnecessarily slaughtered hundreds of mothers and children during missions. Yep, you've never made sisters watch their brothers die, killing them shortly after. You're a patron saint. No wonder people hate you." Mariko's voice was extremely sarcastic, and Sterk cut her an icy stare.

"At least I'm suggesting something instead of making stupid little narratives. So what, we get into the fray backing our own, standing for what we believe in, so what! They've crossed the line on this one, and need to be shown who the real demons are." Sterk pointedly stared at Mariko longer than Joe, but she simply nodded her head. He hadn't expected her to agree.

"Or we could just take down this huge fuck that's destroying our city." Joe countered, though half-heartedly.

"The damage is already done." Mariko chimed in, stealing the words straight from Sterk's mouth. "A life for a life is fine, but Salazar isn't an excuse to let these confrontations keep happening. You realize that because we haven't given the order, the teams that are still in the Nexus aren't aware, and can't fight back. Many of them are being assassinated while off their guard. We need to distribute the temporary titles pronto."

"Let it be so." Joe confirmed, logging into the company system. With the press of a button, the alert was issued, leaving the three standing in silence. "I suppose this means retaliation then?" Joe shrugged, retrieving a double barreled shotgun from behind the counter.

"Let's get to it." Mariko added, and the three were gone.

"It's melting away." Onyx blurted, watching the crystalline structure with a mixture of awe and disgust. It had been three days, with the Nexus on complete military lockdown. Onyx had been watching the streets from the outdoor balcony, shocked at its emptiness. The Nexus was one of the busiest places in North America, and yet today, it was a complete ghost town. Even the vampires without eyes couldn't endure the fatal power of direct sunlight. The few flecks of motion he could observe were probably SPECS officers, who were tirelessly patrolling the city, hoping to evacuate more citizenry, though the inner city shelters were the only places to go. Even SPECS couldn't leave the city now, whether it crumbled to its knees or not.

The once solid black structure that stretched from the floor to the ceiling had slowly begun to evaporate, making the web more translucent with each passing minute. Onyx, much to Tiffany's chagrin, let more sunlight into the room to speed up the process. The cocoon no longer pulsed, instead it made a quiet hissing sound as more and more of it disintegrated into the open air. A calming breeze blew in from the west, creating a sense of peace within the room. Tiffany watched from afar, and before long, Blade's chrysalis was gone, leaving him lying on the bed injury free.

"How long was I gone?" Blade asked, sitting bolt upright, and then springing onto his feet without missing a beat. He was talking as he walked, finding hidden panels here and there to further activate security in the penthouse. Most of the armored shutters closed, leaving only the exit to the balcony open. After entering each of the four rooms, still without receiving an answer, Blade sighed and grabbed a beer from the double wide refrigerator. It felt like he hadn't eaten for months, his stomach churning viciously, making him feel like vomiting on the spot. He hid everything quite nicely, but already knew what was happening-the blood thirst. He'd have to let Aisha know immediately. It was dangerous for her to be near him. Memories of the last time his thirst took over still haunted him. He would have attacked her in that condition for sure…

"Are you alright man? I saw what happened out there, that vamp was a helluva brute; you were out for three days in that thing." Onyx stepped into the kitchen taking a seat on top of the countertop near Blade. There was genuine concern in his eyes.

"It's been that long huh?" For the longest time Blade just sat there, intermittently sipping his beer while spacing out. The drink was starting to disgust him beyond his tolerance. It wasn't blood. Onyx was about to leave the kitchen when Blade called him back. "Where's Aisha?"

"That's the thing man. We were driving back from SPECS HQ since you had already been busted outta there when we arrived. Aisha spaced out or something, and the next thing you know, we're in a car wreck, full frontal, that ejected her through the windshield! The city must really be down, because Trak-Auto didn't do shit to stop the collision at all, not that it was with a driver or anything." Blade raised an eyebrow questioningly, causing a bead of sweat to casually race down the side of Onyx's face. "What man? I woke up and searched the area, but she was nowhere to be found. She can't be dead, she's got her katanas with her!"

Tiffany smirked watching the exchange between them. She was quite curious about Aisha's absence as well, knowing how closely she had bonded with both James and Blade. God forbid Markus accidentally kill her, bringing Akane's wrath down upon them all. "You're not grateful either? Have you forgotten that it was me who got Blade out of that sticky situation, without bloodshed nonetheless?" Tiffany shot her remarks at Onyx, watching his guard crumble. He ended up rolling his eyes.

"Thank you Tiffany." He said without spirit. "It's not like Aisha and I would've killed anyone in the rescue. We had a fucking plan." Tiffany snorted.

"So what do we do now? The city has gone to shit, those ugly freaks are giving us glamorous vampires a bad name, and the baddest Daywalker on the planet can't even stand up to the threat. What's the cure-all this time?" Tiffany fanned her hands in front of her face, no doubt trying to portray her _glamorous_ side. Blade snorted right back at her. The kitchen sounded like it was full of pigs at the slaughterhouse.

"I kill Markus and take the hook. These new vampires will probably go to ash the second Markus isn't around, we'll see. I've got leads on Vladimir's sword and Aisha's working on getting the ring. With this much power in one place, I'm sure Vladimir will want to show up in person to reclaim it."

"What makes you so sure?" Both Tiffany and Onyx piped up at the same exact time.

"Have a little faith in humanity's last hope why don't ya?" Blade laughed, a deep throaty sound that was rare if nothing else. For half a second, they were unsure, but then they joined in with him.

"And if they don't go to ash after he dies?" Tiffany interrupted.

"Then I'd say it's going to be one hell of a cleanup." Blade retorted.

A small boom rocked the whole space, shattering pictures that fell from the wall, activating security alarms everywhere. No matter which way they looked, there were flashing lights and blaring noises.

"Onyx, the roof!" Blade called out, pressing a button on a key fob to eject a hidden compartment from the wall which housed a classic variety of vampire slaying weaponry. Blade caught a glimpse of the legendary lion head shield, Defender, before grabbing his trademark weapon, and loaded his trench coat with side arms, Onyx quick on his tail. They were out of the penthouse so quickly that Tiffany didn't bother to give chase. Part of her already knew what was going to happen. Markus was on that rooftop.

Keiji grabbed his sides he was laughing so hard. To his left, Impresia was pouring him some hard Jameson whisky, his favorite type of liquor. He couldn't believe she was this funny.

"Rich, smart, knows her whisky and a sista? Is there anything you don't have workin for ya?" Keiji asked, recovering from the insane amounts of laughter. She was splitting his sides.

"I'm mostly Indian, but I'll take that." Impresia countered, clinking glasses with him. The drive was incredibly smooth, you could barely tell when the vehicle turned. "A word of caution though Keiji, don't be tryna pick me up if you ain't gon put it down." Impresia used one hand to push some bouncy red coils out of her eye, the other sensually grazing the skin on her thigh. Her hair was a bushel of curls, almost to the point of an afro.

"Touché." Keiji responded, clinking glasses with her again after another big gulp. He was so filled with mirth, that the smell of gunpowder almost eluded him. A quick glance around the vehicle revealed nothing, but Keiji couldn't be too thorough, for then Impresia would realize his search. Keiji could not seem suspicious to her, especially since the wolves needed this job. He continued to look as surreptitiously as possible, and then heard the gun being cocked. Keiji knew exactly where it was coming from now.

"Get down!" Keiji cried out, shoving Impresia's head in his lap. The rear windshield cracked in at least a dozen places, shotgun shells piercing all the way through the protective tinted glass in three. _What the hell are you doing, I'm fine! We're just talking, lay off! _ Keiji shot the mental message to Kaiser, who did not fire again.

"I guess your boys aren't fine with me being down here." Impresia joked, giving his lap a pat, but sitting up straight again. "Carlton, what's going on out there? Why is the ride uncomfortable?" Impresia crossed her arms angrily.

The driver checked his mirrors before giving Impresia a hasty reply. "I apologize ma'am, it would appear that our pursuers have ceased their fire. I would've taken evasive maneuvers immediately had I been able to see the firearm in advance. I was just doing what I thought would protect you."

"Well stay on top of your game." Impresia snapped. "I don't like a piss poor performance."

"As you wish Madame. I also thought you would like to know that there is going to be a slight delay in our arrival, for the streets are lined with bodies, making it difficult to navigate the usual route." The vehicle passed over a few bumps, the sound of bones crunching painfully loud and clear.

"Take the long one." Impresia informed him.

_Keiji, there's bloodsucker fucks all over this road man, looks like a massacre._ Kaiser's voice in Keiji's mind was echoed by Lucien's. _Who do you think rolled through here, possibly another pack?_

_Wouldn't get my hopes up._ Keiji replied, sighing and relaxing back into the plush interior. _Even so, from the tone in your voice I can tell you're impressed. From what I can smell, there's Vizuela's signature all over it. Looks like a single mercenary, or a small team is getting shit done._

"Lucia told me about you guys, your work and the kinda shit you've done. Why are you protecting me when I'm not paying you anything? Doesn't that defeat the whole purpose of being a mercenary? Y'all not supposed to do anything for shits and giggles." Impresia winced painfully as she removed her humongous gold hoop earrings. There was blood in her earholes, as if she'd just pierced them herself.

"I'm sure it's not free in the long run." Keiji vaguely replied, still not fully trusting her. Should Kaiser be wrong, it could be Impresia who had captured Kryzon, no matter how innocent she seemed. Imprisoning a member of Sutonokami against their will was unforgivable, in the same way that he'd always harbor an intense hatred for the vampire named Jade for practically enslaving him. The hand of vengeance would be a heavy one.

"Well, here we are." Impresia welcomed, waiting for Carlton to respectfully open her door. She was greeted by a team of three butlers, one of which volunteered to park Kaiser's motorcycle. Keiji laughed, watching a small dispute between Kaiser and the butler. Kaiser refused to allow someone else to ride it, and further declined parking it in a garage. Lucien strolled up to Keiji while Impresia took the lead and was escorted into the house.

"Sorry about that shot man, but Kaiser thought it was she who had snatched Kryzon. Lucia must have done something to him beforehand, he almost went crazy on the trigger before you sent that message. Where was the warning beforehand? If it was safe when she sped away with you in the car, why didn't you let us know? You let the situation escalate too far." Lucien wasn't yelling but speaking calmly and rationally. It was new for him.

"I'm sorry, I guess I got caught up in good conversation. Listen, stay on your guard while we're here. I know Impresia is the one we're supposed to protect, but that doesn't mean she isn't the one who took Kryzon. Kaiser's instincts could be just as right as his reasons for accepting this gig." Keiji had lowered his voice to a whisper.

"Understood." Lucien mouthed.

"Also, what did you make of the huge piles of vampire bodies back there? I couldn't see anything because Impresia's windows were tinted, but it sure smelled like the rotten side of hell." Keiji realized that they had been walking through a beautiful courtyard, with stone tiles and a fountain with crystal clear water in it, and nodded with subtle appreciation. Money truly could buy class.

"Listen. I haven't told Kaiser yet, but I saw this man with a black coat with silver crosses on it out there. Dude had an enormous claymore with him, and I swear he was taking these things out left and right. I could hardly blink before spiky hair was ripping through another one. His eyes held no remorse, even if these guys bled human blood and didn't go to ash. This guy is a beast, whoever he is." Lucien jammed his hands into his jeans pockets as they entered the magnificent three story home. He wasn't much for colorful aesthetics.

"A wolf?" Keiji asked, a stupid question whose purpose was just for confirmation. Keiji had a pretty good idea who the man was already, especially since he worked for Vizuela.

"Nah, human, 100% through." Lucien closed his mouth once Kaiser joined the two in the great hall. Protecting this vampire was going to be a royal bore.

Aisha froze in her tracks, dropping her katanas in shock. She'd emerged from the shadow of a weathervane atop a high rise line of high-end apartments, the top of which was a gorgeous condo. When she exited the shadow, she came face to face with the dreaded Markus, who was grinning evilly.

"Follow me, little samurai." Markus began a slow run to the edge of the roof, at the same time, the single entrance from the lower floors burst open, four people spilling out of it, spraying bullets in Markus's direction. It was Vici, Aisha confirmed, recognizing Trigger instantly from that night weeks ago in Vizuela. She hoped that in a cloak he would not recognize her in return. The four humans chased Markus to the edge of the roof, but no one could follow as he leaped into the sky, plummeting to the vacant streets below. The intoxicating smell was stronger than ever before now, causing her to tremble where she stood. _At least it hadn't been Markus._ Before Vici could turn and look at her, she decided to bolt for the door, forgetting her katanas on the rooftop. Lightning struck overhead, beginning a torrential downpour that didn't wait to evolve into a vicious storm. Before she could reach the only exit, Blade and Onyx used it to enter the roof. If she didn't before, she had everyone's attention now.

"Aisha what was that? Was the vampire giant here?" Blade has his weapon drawn and ready, his senses kicking in immediately. She could only nod once at him, her words were gone.

"Aisha Mizore Yamakita!" The cry was louder than thunder itself. Aisha whipped around to look at the person who had called her name, and realized the blunder too late. Her hood had fallen off in the process.

He didn't need to be able to see to recognize the presence of his one and only sibling. Additionally, Aiden didn't need his eyes to tell him that she was a vampire. He sensed the changes in his teammates' auras, and knew everything to be true. She was alive no longer. After more than twelve years of searching, his efforts were wasted on the end result. Aiden could only do what he would have to do, without shedding any tears over it. It was his job now, to put her in her rightful place, six feet underground.

"Brother?" Aisha could only ask the timid question to the empty air, for nothing was a certainty any longer. She hadn't seen her brother in decades, and couldn't imagine him being physically blind. He looked fit and in good health, and for that, she tried to smile, but whether the storm blew it away, or the emotion was much too weak, it didn't hold. Not only did a double dose sadness well up inside of her to replace it, tears did fall. The drops were short lived though, because Aiden unfolded his trademark naginata2, unquestioningly leveling the blade of the weapon at her. On Vici's side, they tried to stop Kokei's advance, but failed. Onyx tried to get into the mix as well, but Blade stopped him, instead, handing Aisha her silver katana. There was a strange amount of heat radiating from it, even though he only gripped it by the scabbard.

"This is not your fight." Blade simply spoke, unable to do much more.

"Onyx? Are you fucking kidding me? You're working with Blade, and didn't say anything to us?" Panther exploded, his rage making him howl. Angela and Trigger were dumbstruck as he flew across the rooftop, exchanging fists with someone he'd thought to be a friend.

"You hunted with us, helped us, and lied straight to our faces! I should fucking kill you!" Panther's enraged words came out as snarls, his fists doing most of the talking. Onyx defended as best as he could, but Panther had the advantage for sure.

"Don't move Daywalker, it's not your fight." Trigger echoed mockingly, a red laser sight directly on Blade's heart. While he did not drop his sword, Blade let the two men continue their skirmish without interference. In the center of the rooftop, Aisha and Aiden had blocked out the entire world. Aisha was still crying, though silently. She let her sunlight resistant cape blow off the edge of the space, fully exposing herself. Underneath, she had on the traditional robes of the Yamakita family, the belt around her waist solid black coated in symbols from the Koga ninja clan. Her eyes brightened, and her fangs lowered as she allowed herself to get lost in the smell of nearby blood. There was no need to hide her identity, or what she really was from her brother, but it would be much more than difficult to make him understand.

"You know I would never ever harm you, don't you Aiden?" Even though they still advanced on each other, Aisha's tone was much more mature than usual and she hadn't raised her sword against him. Kokei's reply was a quick head shake. He was not going to listen.

"A vampire is no sister of mine; I have no regrets. I will remember you for who you used to be, when your soul cried out at the joys of this world and nothing more. If this were another lifetime, I would do nothing different. Losing here is the same punishment as death for me. Victory is nothing but assurance that I've honored my family by sending you to hell. If you are who you say you are, prove it through your weapon, and cease the foolish words. They mean nothing to me." Aiden's naginata began to shimmer, giving off a strong white light. No doubt the weapon had divine properties. Unfortunately for her, Blade had given her its polar opposite, limiting her to techniques based on hellfire.

Aiden's first strike almost beheaded her, but she slipped to the ground quietly, attempting to sweep him, but her brother was smart if nothing else. Stabbing the sword at her legs, he forced Aisha to dance out of her attack range, while he was able to obtain maximum efficiency from his weapon. She wasn't channeling chi into her sword like he was into his naginata, for she had learned to be far more efficient than just using the chi in a weapon as a destructive instrument. Even so, blocking his attacks made the handle of the sword dig further into her hands, ripping back skin and making it flaky and abrasive. He hadn't used any techniques yet, but she wasn't going to hold out forever either.

At the side, Trigger had closed in on Blade, aiming his gun at him slightly outside of point blank range. Blade wouldn't be able to disarm him short of chopping his arms off, which he was seriously considering. Angela was attempting to separate her man from her friend by explaining that their goals were in line with each other, but wasn't having much success. Both of the fighters had black eyes, and scratches that drew blood. The rain wasn't letting up either.

_They're in your way, kill them_. Blade could not stop the voice inside of his head from ranting. Fangs were growing inside his mouth, and his stomach gurgled again. Trigger made a witty quip about him missing breakfast, but he ignored that too. Blade felt absolutely terrible. The vampire within him was begging for bloodshed, but the only thing his human side wanted to do was stop the source of the city wide devastation. He'd have to exercise self-restraint for as long as possible.

Aisha drew first blood. Her sword cut across the end of Aiden's abdomen, bleeding instantaneously. Aiden continued fighting in spite of it. Moving faster than before, if that was even possible.

"Secret Technique: Divine Retribution!" Aiden charged, at the same moment, the entire roof became bathed in a transparent white light thicker than fog. He was on Aisha in a second, whom he knew could not anticipate his attack. With one swing, he felt his spear slash through flesh and bone, easing all of his troubles at the same time.

Blade didn't know how, or why he retreated, but he knew his vampire side had been scared into life. Before the explosion of burning light, he scooped up Onyx, knocking Panther aside easily with a force that could break a jaw. Once Onyx was in his arms, he found himself speeding toward Aisha, trading her silver weapon for his own. He then flipped off the building, evaporating into a black mist that traveled at the speed of light. When he landed on the city streets, a few stories below, there was a plume of ash at his feet that quickly dissipated. It all happened in a matter of seconds. Onyx struggled to catch his breath, confused as hell.

"Come on, we're going after him. We take him down, we should be able to get rid of his line, saving the city and getting Vladimir's hook." Blade didn't leave Onyx time to respond, starting to run in a breakneck speed. Onyx's thoughts were jumbled far and few, but he followed anyway. There was something very different going on, but he'd never be able to discover it with the city around him in complete disarray.

1 You're Welcome (in Japanese)

2 A naginata is a Japanese weapon whose base is a spear-like staff. It has a thick, sharp blade at the tip


	15. Chapter 14: Eager to Climax

**Chapter Fourteen**

Aisha felt the edge shift through her flesh, a warm metal, which oddly wasn't silver. Even so, she didn't feel pain. It had been awhile since she'd use Witchflame, a hellish chi art that long story short, gave momentary invulnerability, at a steep price that correlated directly with the thirst. Despite that, there was an eerie tranquility to the moment just before her molecules pieced themselves back together, forming a solid body of carbon once again. She'd have to watch herself. If Aiden kept mouthing off divine attacks, she might just have to kill him.

But he was her brother...

The internal dilemma made the space of twenty seconds feel like hours of introspection. Here he was, in the flesh, her own blood kin, who she thought was dead. Aiden didn't make the boat that ended up taking her to China, but had somehow made it to the United States, even while blind. She knew that the bandits that had razed her home to the ground because of her mother had captured him, but only because he'd sacrificed himself to save her life. The weight of that was humongous, which was why she did not want to harm him in any way. When her eyes finally cemented back in their proper place, she kept a close watch on Aiden's abdominal injury. Not only was he still bleeding red blood, his chi was also being drained, partially due to her damaging cut, and partially due to his weapon techniques. Perhaps fate had deemed her worthy of an alternative after all...

Aisha clashed with him, weapon to weapon, slamming their aggressions together in a battle between siblings. She could see Kokei's determination grow as the fight extended, and he'd actually done some surface damage to her several times. Aisha nicked him again with her katana, wondering if he was holding back. When Aiden launched another holy attack, she realized that he wasn't. The technique engendered a crippling light once more, encasing the rooftop in a thick flashing fog. Aisha could not see through it at all. Instead, she slowly pivoted in the haze, until she combed the surface of her brother's mind.

This is too much, we're losing out here. Panther's injured, again, Trigger's not doing his job right, and Angela is practically worthless! I can't feel my arms right now, and my senses are just as off as Aisha's because I keep using these divine techniques. I wish this was over. She was never supposed to turn. How can I face myself knowing that this is how she ended up? Am I supposed to kill my own flesh and blood, or am I supposed to let her feed on others? There's no justice in this country.

Aisha found him through his thoughts, the divine technique ultimately failing to confuse her. She nicked Kokei two more times with purpose, once in the arm, and once just beneath his left shoulder, drawing more blood. The cuts she had received from his weapon were long gone. It was just like the rain to wash away one's injuries, along with their innocence. She knew he was going down no sooner than the divine fog lifted. Aiden didn't have the chi to maintain it. Aiden hadn't stopped to learn from someone new. It was just like her brother. He probably trained every day, making himself more and more self-sufficient than ever before, but in the end, that meant nothing. There was always a limit to how effective self-studying was, and Aiden didn't have a mentor like Amara to teach him newer, more advanced chi manipulation. This in combination with fatigue guaranteed Aisha the win.

Aisha let out a small cry, weaving her sword into Aiden's defense. She cut at least eight of his fingers with one move, making him drop the sword. In the same motion, Aisha used the katana's weight to flick the naginata off the roof, just like her cloak. A forceful, straight kick pushed Aiden to the ground, his back hitting the six-inch concrete wall that ran the perimeter of the building. His breath left him, more a cloud of chi than anything else. Aisha leveled her sword at his neck, the gleaming silver catching distant beams of light. It felt different to her somehow.

"Aiden, I-" Aisha was never able to finish. Aiden shoved the katana aside with his hand, and simply walked back to where Trigger was standing, leaving her feeling empty, and her mouth agape.

"I can't do this anymore man. There's no justice in this life, and no peace. I cannot hunt with you any longer. I quit." Aiden continued to walk away, the door to the lower levels of the building shutting behind him, perfuming the area with stunned silence. No one knew what to say.

"You guys just going to fucking let him go like that? He's family man!" Trigger shouted at Angela, who only held Panther's head in her lap. She looked at Trigger sadly before hoisting Panther's lifeless form onto her shoulder.

"His jaw is broken, and he's unconscious." Angela tried to reason, but Trigger just cursed and stormed after Aiden, hoping with every fiber of his being that the warrior would reconsider his decision.

Oberon glided through the streets, keeping his eyes on every shadow he passed. Overhead, SPECS had a few choppers with bright floodlights scouring the streets, looking for any nests of vampires, especially the soulless. Oberon didn't really have a clue where the name had come from, but in light of their physical appearance, that was the only thing that fit. Even vampires took care of their hygiene, making sure to look extra conceited and at the same time pleasing to the eye. The vampires that had been created by the rampaging monster plaguing the city were entirely different. Not only had the eyes (often called the windows to the soul) disappeared, leaving sunken, blackened holes, their only desire was to feed, their fangs always dripping with saliva, nonstop. In addition, they wandered aimlessly without directive, spread apart in disorganized groups, simply to feed. They were the closest things to zombies that Oberon had ever come in contact with.

The choppers announced across the city, that curfew had hit, and that civilians were mandated to return to their homes. Syfy would probably send Anubis's squad back into the fray soon; he knew that for a fact. Oberon still couldn't wrap his head around Anubis and his tactical successes, even in the past few days. It was because of the stranger that the city's partial evacuation had been safely executed, and he personally saw to it that SPECS HQ's outer perimeter was fortified daily. Oberon was still suspicious of him.

"I've engaged with the monster! Broadcasting video feed to others in the area and through the airwaves. Engaging in physical combat, requesting immediate support."

Oberon watched a blip appear on his HUD, a mark about fifty miles away. As he sped to it, the battle raged on in his peripherals, the vampire who was still a head taller than their seven-foot tall nanosuits, and a quickly adapting arrangement of machines, attacking each other no holds barred. Watching so up close and personal was daunting, for each time there was a dip in mental activity, Oberon was aware. They all had ticking clocks, and could operate for only so long. Even though the city's power grid was mostly unused at the present time, it didn't help them too much. Oberon was still twenty miles away when the vampire, again declaring his own greatness and servitude to Vladimir, tore the suit's arms from the chest, following up with the hook cleaved directly through the armored skull. The pilot inside was safe, albeit panicking, but when Markus was done with him, he was nothing more than a baby in fetal position. Even with a house-destroying explosion, Markus emerged unharmed, silver shells, swords, spears having done nothing to impede his constant turnings. They watched him unearth a small community of citizens in hiding, and summarily convert them all in the most brutal way possible. Watching it forced Oberon to stop, for he almost vomited inside of his suit. It was sickening. Syfy ordered three of the suits to return the pilot to headquarters for debriefing and general damage repair. He and a young hopeful named Felix were tasked with finding Markus and setting a trap for him until more officers could close in. In the wake of the storm, the skies were unbelievably dark, but the helicopters couldn't fly too low due to the high volume of skyscrapers in the city. The best pilots wouldn't survive a head on collision or a plane crash. Were they fighting a losing battle against this one vampire?

"It took down one of the suits, what are we going to do? Right now we can't afford to dispatch more mechs; we barely have enough manpower to stay up and running here." Nadira pointed out. She and Syfy were in one of several conference rooms, having a close-doored conversation. On the oval table, there were two laptops, one that displayed and endless stream of data on the screen, the other cycling through different video feeds from the mechs, choppers, and squadrons still in the field.

"We can't send Anubis and his team against that monster, it's too risky. The man just joined us and has already proved himself worthy of the highest military rank we hold. We can do something else. Get the surveillance copters to scour the streets for Blade. I know it's a lot of ground to cover, but I have to believe more than anything that this time, the Daywalker is on our side. I may have wrongfully cast my own personal judgments against him in the past, but we need him now. Once we have his location, get some backup teams out there to put some weight behind his attack. Together, there just might be a chance at us taking this monstrosity down."

Dr. Rashidli nodded, already communicating with the aerial pilots via Bluetooth. She knew they were at wits end with the raging skies lately, the threat of storms constantly imminent, but thanked them regardless. "Our reinforcements from Black Squad in North Carolina have arrived in our airspace. The will be here and in your command in ten minutes. Yuki gives his regards."

Syfy scoffed in response. It was a wonder he hadn't gone crazy yet. With the immense pressure solely on his branch of SPECS, should they fail to neutralize this threat, much more would be at stake than simply losing a job. He'd worked too hard for this, and was not ready to lose his position or any more people. He keyed in some commands on the data displaying laptop. Ace the hacker appeared on his screen, yawning once and stuffing his face with sour cream and onion potato chips.

"You want the numbers Chuck? Eighty percent of the civilian population evacuated, ten percent of humans remain in the city, and ten percent are soulless blood-sucking vampires. Hey, we're lucky, even if we all die, the United States Government should be able to easily wipe out twenty percent of our city's population. They may even get the Daywalker in the crossfire! It's child's play." Ace laughed, returning to his game. Syfy had a seriously grim look on his face, returning the screen to mere data again with the press of an f12 key.

"Why is that bastard staying in the city? We have had no reports at all on the outer perimeter stating any vampires are attempting to escape our city lines. If all these things want to do is feed, why stay where the food is limited? What have we got that's so important?" Nadira threw her hands in the air, leaving Syfy to ponder her questions. The answer came all too quickly though.

"We have a Daywalker."

"You have the shittiest fucking timing I've ever heard of!" Aisha raved, stomping about the parlor like a child having a temper tantrum. Lucia was lying on her side, a willing blood donor feeding her juicy white grapes while dressed in business attire. Aisha noted the fang marks in the neck instantly, wounds that would never heal until the human became a vampire. Aisha wasn't a fan of feeding from willing people, but she couldn't imagine Lucia had a passion for hunting for meals or storing large quantities of blood packs from hospitals. Aisha hated cold blood, it was nothing compared to fresh, adrenaline-filled hemoglobin.

"I needed you Aisha, and here you are. Please refrain from destroying my things." Lucia's voice was musical and calm, even though Aisha still smashed the glass ornament of cherubim she'd had in her hand.

"I had found my brother, after all these years, and now he's gone again, before I could explain anything." Tears threatened to fall, but Aisha kept on an angry face.

"Do you remember his scent, even in the downpour of the thundering rain?"

"How could I forget?" Aisha shouted back. The blood donor looked uncomfortable, so Lucia excused her from the room. When the large doors closed shut behind her, Lucia rose from her comfortable position lounging on her side like a Roman Goddess.

"Then track him later, and shut your fucking mouth. I know you're a rising star gladiatrix now, but do not forget the terms of our agreement. You're working for me. You will show me the utmost respect at all times. Now bow." Lucia stood before Aisha, her majestic appearance breathtakingly terrifying. Aisha did not feel fear of her own, but instead reverence and servitude. The bow was reluctant, sure, but the clawing at the corners of her mind must have had a hand in it.

"Very good, now hear me out. You've never met a werewolf before have you?" Lucia's lips curled into a condescending smirk.

"I've heard, never seen. The only time I kill humans aside from feeding is when working for Vizuela, and I've never seen one change into a werewolf." Aisha lowered her head, almost bashfully. There was so much that she didn't know about the world, for here was Lucia, hundreds of years old, and she, a newborn by comparison. The unbalanced scales of life experience did a number to her psyche.

"Before we leave for tonight's matches, I would like you to meet Kaiser. He's the head of wolf pack Sutonokami." Lucia swept her arm at the doors, which opened through her willpower alone. What walked through was merely a man with a beating heart, loaded down with weaponry and a subtle stink. He hadn't been in the room for thirty seconds when both he and Aisha had their noses turned up at each other. Without meaning to, Aisha dropped the full length of her fangs, her body tensing, ready to pounce. She'd have beheaded him right away, but Lucia had her weapon locked up, while Blade was still holding on to her black divine katana. Aisha wanted to rip out his throat and to devour his heart. The other party easily noticed her rage.

"Oh baby, if you've got kids, this thing between us just ain't gonna work out." Kaiser taunted Lucia opening his hands wide, a challenge.

"Kaiser this is Aisha, you don't recognize her? It would seem as if less than 24 hours ago you were praising her ability to kick ass in the arena." Lucia placed a protective manicured hand on Aisha's shoulder, but she refused to relax. He was pissing Aisha off more and more, hearing his voice only made matters worse.

"Ah, this is the little gladiatrix? She looks a lot more harmless in person, tame even." Kaiser added, flashing a false smile. Aisha lunged.

"Easy now, there's only one dog in this room, yet you're acting like one." Lucia reprimanded, slamming Aisha to the floor by her shoulder. Despite the painful aftereffects of the execution, Aisha still managed to string a few curses together.

"Bet you wouldn't mind if he gave it to you doggy style." Aisha sniped back, a dark emotion roiling within her. She purposely bumped against Lucia before slamming down on one of her grand couches.

Lucia got nasty then, snatching Aisha from the couch by her arm. Kaiser remained speechless, as the royal vampire dragged her fighter from the house. As per agreement, Sutonokami would legally be allowed admittance into the tournament that night. He didn't know why, but Lucien had been extremely grateful for that. Mentally, he checked in on his entire team, except for Kryzon, whose mind he could not reach. They were all ready to perform their duties, but also couldn't deny the guilty pleasure of watching the vampires exterminate themselves.

"What's up with you?" Stray asked Aisha a few hours later. As always, her fiery orange hair was unkempt and strewn in all directions. Stray somehow managed to appear physically dirty, even if they were all currently taking showers. Aisha bit back an insult, but was irate nonetheless.

"Just back the fuck off. I'm not telling you shit." Aisha responded. Everyone was getting on her nerves, even her home girls. Stray looked slightly offended, but she didn't press the matter further. She knew when to relent.

"You must be joking, star of the show having a bad day? Leaking blood from your little girl panties? I bet they left your makeup in Lucia's royal purse, because you're ugly as fuck without it." Aisha whipped around to see Minerva's fighter, Kendra. It was the final needle in her ass. Kendra was a tall, Hispanic woman with a buxom build, abdominal muscles rivaling those of Calvin Klein models. She had well handled dreads in her hair, and hazel eyes that looked above everyone else. She had twenty wins in the tournament, pulling off her first six in her first day. Her fighting style consisted of smashing bones with a heavy morning star, and her outfit was the most decorated one of them all. Not only did everyone slot her as the next semi-annual championship winner, but Minerva was counting on it. Aisha couldn't let her take the gold though, because she needed Vladimir's ring, and she had to learn more about her mother, at any cost. As she clamped her teeth together, rage bubbled fast to the surface. She was tired of Kendra's condescending, bitchy attitude, especially since she was in the same position they were in, fighting for sport so that someone else could make bank.

"You wanna say that to my face you saggy tittied fuck?" Aisha stood her ground, even though three sets of hands were holding her back, whispering comforting words to calm her down, struggling against her sweating skin. She wasn't hearing any of it, and was beginning to see red. Being naked only made it that much easier to rip out a bitch's lungs.

Kendra laughed, a small group of followers following suit behind her as well. They knew better than to interject on her behalf, but wouldn't have said anything if Kendra decided to kill Aisha right then and there. "You ever had a sip of Vladimir Drovsky's blood Aisha? I'm not talking the petty shit you find on the streets from crack dealers and blood whores, but the real deal they give you once you break eighteen victories. You could stake my ass with pure silver right now, and I wouldn't go to ash. I've already been shot once with a round packed with hallowed earth, and have got the wound on my sexy ass legs to prove it. Once you and your second rate hoes have enough reputation to stand against me, then come at me. Until then, take yo' ass to a corner or some shit, and watch me do me _puta_." Kendra left the showers then, indeed having a blackened wound on one of her muscled legs. It was true; they did have more than just money at stake here. Women that reached Kendra's level had the opportunity to extend their lives by becoming resistant to a few of the things that killed off vampires. However, what would happen if she drank Vladimir's blood, and then Blade killed Vladimir? It was all too confusing, not to mention the fact that Kendra had just completely shut her down in a public spectacle.

"Are you okay girl? Don't take any of her bullshit to heart." Kylecia, the strong African American warrior spoke. Aisha's head was in a haze.

"I've got it." Aisha simply answered, pushing away from her and Stray. When she passed Isis, her eyes were very sad, and Aisha gave her a hug before drying off by herself. It was almost time for her next match, and she was going to win. She was tired of waiting slowly for more to come; she was ready to take the fast track to the end, knowing that she'd have to kill Kendra along the way. She couldn't wait for that. Despite everything Amara had taught her, including letting her emotions get the best of her, she was ready to do things her own way now, Lucia be damned.

"Yo man, slow down! I don't even see how you can run that fast loaded down with silver like that! Are you even planning to return Aisha's sword? Where's yours?" Onyx kept up his pace, running from block to block after Blade, knowing what was coming. He was going to meet the huge, heavily scarred vampire face to face, and together, he and Blade would end him.

Blade paused for a minute. In truth, he had wanted to give Aisha both of her weapons once he picked up her energy signature on the penthouse roof, but when he touched her black katana in the weapons closet, it had almost burned the shit out of him, even without anyone pumping chi into it. Thus, he had decided on arming his ally with the silver hell sword. Honestly, he'd forgotten that he'd taken Aisha's weapon from her before the blind swordsman unleashed his holy attack, replacing it with his own. Everything had happened so fast, yet he did not regret it. The sword in his hand pulsed with an evil that was strong, but powerful as well. Aisha's sword handled no differently than his own, and if he could just kill the bloodlust roiling inside of him, he would actually feel confident in his ability to destroy his opponent. "Silver and UV light is just a distraction, they aren't enough to take this one down alone. We'll have to get his heart and his head simultaneously in order to guarantee his defeat." Blade's nose led him to a shopping mall, lined from ceiling to floor with department stores. It figured. The last vestiges of life in the city, and there were still people hiding out in places that were looted daily by lowlifes with no fear of death.

"We separating?" Onyx asked, a lilt of disdain in his voice.

"No, look." Blade pointed to the third floor, where an ungodly amount of blood splattered across the entrance to Body Central, a stylish female clothing store. The glass at its entrance shattered, five newly created vampires exiting, scouring the immediate area in a ravenous frenzy. Blade popped each of them in the head with a silenced pistol. "It's time to get to work."

Heavy metal blared from a music store on the third floor, so Blade ushered Onyx in that direction, bounding up the broken escalators three steps at a time. Since the soulless had nothing but blood on the brain, Markus had to be close by, but even as they entered the entertainment store, there was no one to be found. Blade cursed, knocking a rack of pop CDs to the floor in frustration. Was this bastard running away on purpose?

"Markus!" Blade's shout rent the air, echoing throughout the mall. Onyx simply gawked, unsure of how to proceed. He scanned the store again, but turned up no results, there weren't even humans there.

Blade saw a blur in his peripheral vision, and then a hand clamped against his skull, pushing him back at an alarming rate.

"Welcome back, Daywalker. Are you here for round two?" Blade tried to fight the vision-blocking grip, but couldn't pry away Markus's huge fingers. His legs hit the outer railing, and suddenly he was in the air, calling Onyx's name, while hurtling three floors down into oblivion.

Blade pulled a gun from his pocket, and shot straight through Markus's chest, piercing the eye of the skull tattoo there. The bullet was connected to a heavy wire, which unfolded into a grappling hook that attached to the ceiling of a crepe stand. When the line pulled taut, the entire stand squealed across the floor to the edge, but didn't go over. Blade knew Onyx could see them hanging, he just trusted his subordinate to move.

Onyx's pulse was pounding in his ears, but he had to help somehow. He leaped from the third floor and rocketed to the two bodies, aiming at the back of Markus's head. Because of the grappling hook, they were only suspended seven feet in the air, but still, Onyx had to make the shot count.

Blade struggled to keep Markus in place, though getting his face bashed a few times wasn't helping. He needed the wire to stay put, at least until Onyx reached them. When he saw Onyx jump, he let go of the gun, which stuck out of Markus's chest like an extra appendage. He was safe on the first floor when Onyx's gunshot blasted, piercing the vampire's head cleanly. It only enraged the giant further, though.

After landing on Markus's back, the entire gun ripped through his chest grimly, and because of Onyx's weight, the vampire face planted on the ground floor. Even though bones broke, Onyx knew they would be healed in seconds. He tried emptying more shells into him, but the vampire was already on the move, weaving around support pillars until he was back on the streets again. Onyx and Blade were about to give chase when they were stopped at the door by twenty vampires with fangs that dripped saliva.

"We don't have time for this!" Blade rushed forward, while Onyx launched a flash grenade behind the group. The grenade went off, blinding the eyeless creatures, giving Blade the perfect opportunity to grasp for a new weapon at his hip. When he fingered the metal of the trigger, it felt vastly different from the guns he was used to handling, but it made no difference. He drew, and fired a red beam of light that hit two vampires at once, instantly knocking them down. While they didn't turn into ash or bleed, they did not get up. Before the rest of the soulless could close ranks, Blade and Onyx ran through their line undetected. For now, it seemed that the storm had quieted, but still, it was too late in the day for the sun to offer them any redemption.

"Follow them." Blade gestured, noticing a small group of vampires about a block away. Markus was still nearby, he could smell it.

Mariko looked down, and there he was, a colossal, seven-foot tall vampire, cleaving his hook through a Canadian girl in her teens. Within moments, she was a vampire, gaining pale, washed out skin and dripping fangs at the cost of her eyes. She raised her clawed hands, making sure the very potent; venom still lined the artificial weapons. She was standing on the platform of an electronic billboard for an insurance company, and prepared to leap. One strike would at least cripple the vampire, greatly reducing his effectiveness. Elder or not, the special poison on her claws would have him dead by the morning. It would be one less thing to worry about.

"Stop." Mariko almost slipped off the platform, the voice startling her much more than she wanted to admit. She turned, removing a few purple locks from out of her eye's way and saw Joe, his broadsword ablaze with shimmering Scottish rune magic. He pointed his weapon to Blade, whom she hadn't noticed before. They collided in visceral combat the moment Markus noticed the Daywalker again. They looked like ants trying to push each other over.

"Let them handle this." Joe spoke, resting his arm across Mariko's chest, lifting her back on the safe side of the railing. She didn't resist at all, despite her own personal stigma about people touching her and was as light as a feather to him. She turned to Joe for a second, deciding against her first choice of words.

"I hope you're making the right call on this. He's running away from them on purpose, just to turn more of the city's remaining population. If you ask me, this is a two-pronged attack; it's bigger than him just turning people. He's preparing for something." Mariko let out a sigh, leaning her back against the billboard. "How's Sterk doing huh? Since you want me to turn my attention away from the one who's putting us all at risk right now, I might as well ask about him." Mariko's face was as sour as her tone. She crossed her arms over her chest, but instead of glaring at Joe, her vision was skyward. There were nothing above but blackened clouds.

"He's doing as well as can be expected. Four of Alivatesh's teams have fallen to his blade, and he's sniffing out the fifth as we speak. He's having too much fun with this, even though we both know he's playing by the book. I couldn't slap him with the Code of Conduct to make him act more fairly, which is ironic, by all counts." Joe turned around and rammed his sword through the width of the billboard and straight into a chest. The mysterious assailant gave his last breath on the other side, and then fell to the ground unmoving. "That's another one of theirs, do you think we should just keep standing up here and waiting for them?"

"It's worth a shot. Just kidding." Mariko replied, diving over the platform. Joe ran his hand through the bald spot in the center of his head before replicating her actions. It was going to be a busy night.

Blade was finally making progress. Aisha's stylish weapon tore into Markus's flesh twice more, staggering the giant, giving Onyx time to detonate his last flash grenades, which made Markus roar. Blade tried to slash off one of Markus's legs, but had to double back to avoid two lightning fast kicks that would have destroyed ribs. He had to give it to Onyx, other than a few tattered places on his shirt; he'd managed to avoid the hook completely. They were on the offensive now. This could actually work.

"It's over Markus, you know it." Blade taunted, landing a few kicks to his side. Blade knew he was doing damage, but it felt like attacking a lump of steel. Other than using his full force behind the katana, he couldn't get the skin to give way at all.

"Oh really? Try this." Markus jabbed Onyx in his face, making him drop the guns he carried. When he staggered, Markus struck with the hook. Onyx blocked, but the hook broke skin, trapped just to the right of his sculpted abdomen. Onyx had to use both of his arms to block Markus's one, and now he was heaving because of his fresh wound. Blood soaked his shirt and still dripped onto the ground, he was afraid of what it might look like if the hook had made it all the way through him. Onyx dug his feet into the pavement, while Markus struggled to complete the attack. Neither was budging much.

"Shoot him!" Onyx cried, and then he choked on his breath as Markus used his free hand to slug him in his other side. The move would have put Onyx off his balance, but James expertly shifted his weight, stopping Markus's hook from moving. It was painful to watch.

Blade didn't hesitate in drawing the first weapon he could, which was oddly the memory-erasing gun he'd stolen from a weapons warehouse months before. He aimed it right between Markus's eyes and fired, hitting him square in the face. There was no visible reaction, except that Markus froze completely. Onyx took a silver stake out of his pocket and rammed it through Markus's bicep, splattering blood all over himself. This was it.

Blade channeled chi throughout his body until blue-black flames rose from his skin in waves. Because of Onyx, there was no way he could use his second deadly technique without hurting him, so he had to go one beyond that, Deadly Technique Number Three: Chaotic Moon. Blade began by adjusting his stance, the sharp end of his sword behind his head resting on the back of his neck. He placed his legs a shoulder with apart, and felt the weapon resonating with the chi in his body. He rarely used this technique, but had no other choice.

The sword quivered in his hand, shaking as if it were brittle glass. When Blade had summoned the required amount of chi, he thrust the sword forward, releasing four black dragons of pure energy through the air, evaporating into a mist one second, and piercing Markus's heart the next. The three dragons weaved through the air at the speed of sound, circling the interlocked bodies, and then performed a linear strike, which summarily ripped the elder's head from his shoulders. This time, there was no wait. The hook came off, while the rest of Markus's body smoldered in a roaring conflagration. Blade thought that would be the end of it, but Markus's head apparently still had more to say.

"The God of Amaurot frowns upon you Blade. You're a dead man walking if you don't return Vladimir's sacred items. The Nexus is no place for a Daywalker." Markus's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and then burned away, leaving nothing more than a hot pile of debris.

"I thought these chumps were dead once we killed the hook vamp?" Onyx huffed, spraying shells at an immense group of soulless vampires marching their way. A few bodies dropped but the masses walked over them. If they didn't move, the swarm would bowl the two of them over like a giant tidal wave.

"He wasn't the trigger. We've gotta get out of here." Blade grabbed Onyx's arm and again, turned into a thick black mist, shooting through the sky. Within the minute, he was back inside the penthouse base, which was still completely locked down. _What the hell was going on out there?_

"It is done." Vladimir spoke, grinning on his golden throne. He tapped his long fingernails against the armrests, contemplating the near future. Everything was going as planned. "Akane, have Anubis begin the takeover now. The city is ours." Vladimir watched the beautiful Japanese woman bow for him so low; her head almost touched the floor.

"As you wish. Do you want to run by me how having one of the greatest vampires of this age perish is going to get us any closer to having a world full of Daywalkers? If you think about it, how useful would a world like that be? You will basically be leveling the playing field by making everyone equivalent to each other. Your plan doesn't sound anything more than communism with fangs." Akane prostrated on the floor shortly after her outburst, adding my Lord to the end of her statement.

"You're a bit too far in to be questioning my judgment now you insolent bitch, but if you must know, I'll tell you. Listen closely, as these words will only leave my lips once before we both leave this world." Vladimir stood then, taking the seven steps down his throne to stand before her, his black cape chasing after his ankles like an energetic puppy. Akane remained in her bow, her voluminous black hair splayed wildly on the carpet. Her fear of him was almost tangible. Akane secretly despised him, counting down the years before her indentured servitude to him ended. Perhaps Blade could relinquish her early, lessening her sentence. Vladimir couldn't know her intent though.

"As you command, milord." She answered obediently.

"I am not in need of more Daywalkers on this Earth, or even the coveted strengths of the Daywalker. Time and time again, investing in Blade's blood has failed, and I do not plan on replicating past history, I plan to change it. We already have a pair of Daywalkers in the Nexus, one of them being absolutely useless to us at the present time. You see, achieving those things will come later. I am already immune to the blistering sunlight, just as Jason, Cayera, Anubis and bless his undead soul, Markus are. I desire the destruction of the one being that has had the vampire race on edge for almost two eons now, and that is Blade. Without him, the humans cannot stand against us; nothing can stand against us without him. My goal is the complete destruction of his humanity, from which there is no return. Once Blade gives in to the darkness, the day of black moon will be upon us, and we vampires will rule this Earth for eternity." Vladimir took a pause, as if waiting for Akane to speak. When he received no answer, he snapped his fingers, and forced Akane to stand, even though her head was still bowed in reverence to him.

"How do you plan on accomplishing that my Lord?" She asked, not willing to upset him any further. Vladimir was not one to be crossed.

"Onyx. By now, he's like a son to our Daywalker friend. Victory is as easy as me personally putting him in critical condition. When Blade arrives here and finally engages me in combat, I will ruin Onyx. If Blade's vampire side is in check, which it undoubtedly will be due to the influence of my artifacts, he will attempt to save Onyx's life by turning him into a Daywalker. Do you remember what Yuki did to Onyx before the last Vampire Human War? It was an agreement we had after I murdered his pathetic parents."

"Allow Yuki to experiment on the boy as long as he leaves Onyx for dead in the middle of war for Blade to find? How could I forget that stroke of genius? In exchange, you decided to agree never to return to the United States." Akane's recollection earned her a pat on the head from Vladimir. There was no real affection in the gesture, but at least he hadn't yanked her by her hair.

"Right you are, and I have no need to. No doubt Blade has taken the boy under his wing and is training him to be his replacement. Blade will do anything to keep him alive, even sacrifice himself. Anubis had confirmed this by sending me the records of the reports surrounding Blade's brief, but successful imprisonment in SPECS custody. When SPECS raided his base, Blade let the boy escape on purpose. Jonathan could have killed Blade if he wanted to, but his own personal vendetta blinded him from that fact. He's too busy hunting for the female Daywalker, his late fiancée who has probably long forgotten about him." Vladimir laughed. Akane joined in, using her violet kimono sleeve to cover her mouth. She wore an elaborate, multi-layered headdress that jingled when she moved her head, as tiny little bells rang from side to side.

"Long story short, as soon as Onyx's blood hits Blade's tongue, he's done for. His inner vampire will have no choice but to engulf him in order to keep its host alive. We both know that Blade cannot stop the growth of the vampire race if he is contributing to our numbers. The bloodlust will cause him to relapse again, creating more Daywalkers. It would only be a matter of time. You just better be sure to get your daughter out of the way before I lay waste to her as well." Vladimir's tone was both chilly and final.

Akane bit back a reaction, instead keeping her head bowed and her eyes low. She could not look at him right now without going off the wall. She may not have been the best mother, but a direct threat to the safety of her child heated her blood. Immortal or not, she would still throw her life away for Aisha by going against Vladimir, much like Vladimir was saying that Blade would do for Onyx. "As you command milord." The refrain was so easy to her that she never had to mean it anymore. In the beginning, merely uttering his name made her sick. Now, she no longer had that privilege, forced to address him as Lord at the end of each sentence. Akane wondered how Cayera, the only female Elder, had put up with this man for over three centuries. Akane would have to speak to her in private later. If she was lucky, she could sway her allegiance, corrupting her just enough to mount a considerable force against her master. When Blade arrived at the castle, needless to say, he'd be more than distracted.

"With Blade gone, and Anubis in command of the Markus's legion, we will finally unleash havoc on the rest of the world." Vladimir's laughter filled the chamber, making Akane's eardrums pound. At the very least, he had finished talking. When she was permitted to stand, she psychically contacted Anubis, and told him that the plan could proceed with its next stage. No one would know what hit them.

Anubis tore out Jeremiah's throat with his fangs, carefully placing his body near his other deceased squad members. He'd disconnected their weaponry and military gear from broadcasting video to SPECS, and imagined that there would be officers in the area soon. It didn't matter though. The three military soldiers would be his lieutenants in a few days, and he'd simply command them to command others to do his bidding. Anubis already had the massive amount of the soulless at his command. The second Akane had talked to him telepathically; he ordered the hordes to destroy. It was as if a cosmic switch had been flipped, for instead of feasting, total destruction organized them into lethal crowds, that slowly, but surely felled buildings. If SPECS didn't respond soon, the soulless literally would destroy the whole city. Anubis was banking on a counter attack though. The more soldiers and nanotech suits SPECS sent out, the weaker their defenses would be at headquarters, and if the main camp was compromised, the external forces would have nothing to return to. He could not fail.

"We've got to send out everything we've got, or the city will fall. We've only got one more shot, and you know it." Dr. Rashidli pleaded. Choppers overhead provided them with video of the millions of dollars in damages the vampires were causing, leaving a huge mark on their city. Syfy tried to formulate a reasonable plan in his head, but there were almost no options left. Since the government officials had been evacuated and Yuki had the entire city under the cover of quarantine, the White House hadn't yet been involved. If the city's damages reached a certain threshold, the entire thing would be considered as a terrorist attack, with dire consequences. It wouldn't be beneath Washington to drop napalm on them all. Syfy prayed it wouldn't be that serious, but his doubts were growing as exponentially as the amount of vampires in the city. In just a few days, they'd been put in serious danger, despite the majority of its citizens' successful evacuation.

"Send out the remaining mechs, at thirty five minute intervals from each other. Make sure our maintenance team is on standby and that all of the sync rates are at optimal levels for our brave pilots." Syfy plopped into his executive chair and put his head on the desk. What had happened to those peaceful days of busting drug cartels and chasing Blade during fieldwork? He'd kill for flamethrower to burn a mountain of incomplete paperwork at that moment, not that he'd be able to escape it regardless, if this attack ever did end. Syfy hadn't been on the streets since infiltrating Blade's base. That was long overdue.

"What about Anubis? His whole team went dark about an hour ago, no communications, broadcasts, or tracers. You don't think the vampires took them out do you?" Dr. Rashidli's voice was full of concern. Losing their best team would just be another bruise to the establishment's crippled body. They needed all the help they could muster.

"Impossible, it's much more likely they got separated from their equipment or the leader of these soulless vampires somehow had access to an EMP producing weapon. Anubis is much too skilled a tactician to fall in a minor skirmish; they're still out there doing good work. We've got to trust in them." Syfy decided to start filing paperwork from weeks ago, for there was a huge backlog of packets that he had neglected as of late. It was an easy, mindless task to force him to focus his attention somewhere other than death and impending doom. At the same time, paperwork would mean nothing in the end if the vampires were able to take over. Syfy refused to think too much about that outcome. Why was his faith in his organization fading?

Dr. Rashidli could see the pain in his face. Syfy would probably give anything to be on Anubis's squad right now, rather than stay at headquarters trying to keep a solid grip on a crumbling disaster of a city. With all of the madness going on, in combination with Yuki's direct mandate, Syfy had no choice but to stay within the city lines in a desperate attempt to contain the ravaging beasts. Punishment would befall Syfy before anyone else should the city turn to ruins. Nadira felt sorry for him, and truly wished that there were something she could do to take a portion of the weight of the world off his shoulders.

"You want me to go home don't you? I know that's why you had my neighborhood cleared and patrol officers there. You'd rather me risk my life staying with them watching over me, than to be in the safest place I can imagine in the world, with you?" Nadira went red in the face, but it was much more due to her anger and incredulity. Syfy stared at her, stunned, for the longest time.

"I will protect you, if you trust me that much." Syfy watched her eyes glow with his words, her lips turning up ever so slightly in a wonderful smile. Her eyes traced his set jaw, briefly stopping at the part of his lips. Nadira wanted her fingers to have that same luxury, the ability to trace the lines of his strong, brown flesh. He smelled so damn good too, all the time; though he rarely wore cologne at all, save for special occasions. She would know, for he'd worn a special selection for their date at Skybar. It was the first time she smelled a manmade scent on him in months.

"I think any man that would be willing to throw away his life for a woman is worth something." Nadira winked at him, leaving the room with a slow strut. In the beginning, Syfy thought the comment was barbed, a slick insult to his constant search for his fiancée Jade, but then he remembered. He had saved Nadira Rashidli's life in the war. Before he reminisced for too long, he shifted his thoughts back toward his unsettled paperwork. Syfy supposed life was often little more than good and bad stress, and he was surely feeling a whole lot of bad stress right now.

"Faster, I should not be catching your kicks!" Lucia barked. Since Aisha had hit her nineteenth victory in the arena, Lucia had driven her into the ground with supplemental training. She hadn't seen Blade or Amara in a little over two weeks now, but she was so close to winning! Apparently, others knew that as well, which is why she'd had to kill two assassins so far, content with taking either her or Lucia's life to stop her advancement in the gladiatrix competition. It was getting tougher by the day, training and surviving. She felt like she was at boot camp for the military.

Lucia kicked her foot across Aisha's cheek, sending her spinning, but Aisha did not fall down. Instead, Aisha struck back, blinking away stinging sweat from her eyes. She had to stay on her toes. Lucia, Amara, Onyx and Blade were each counting on her to win this, and she could not turn back now after coming this far. It was a strange feeling though. After she'd lost Aiden, it became much easier to gain wins in the tournament. In fact, now she had an iron shield and Swiss army knife as weapons, with an upgraded gladiatrix suit with gold filigree and protective armor that was actually worth something. There was also a substantially large pauldron protecting her sword arm at all times, making it extremely difficult to maim her. In Aisha's history with her matches, she had only been seriously injured four times, none of which had led to a loss. It would stay that way. It had to.

Lucia watched Aisha strike down her clones one by one. Each of them were controlled by her will, and imprinted on Aisha's mind as forcibly as possible. The pain and physical exertion Aisha experienced from them were very much real, even if Lucia hadn't touched her once. Outside, Lucia knew the world was going to hell, but a luxury car with tinted windows was enough to hide any sense of self-righteousness from the young vampire. Lucia had to make sure that Aisha understood that there was no going back from this, and she had to keep the money coming in, not only for her, but to stay in good graces with her father as well. She wondered what Blade was doing in all of this. Was he out there fighting the new multitude of vampires, or lying low until he could formulate a plan?

"Aisha that's enough for now," Lucia informed, having one of her personal butlers bring her an ice-cold lemonade, complete with a mini-umbrella. Aisha fell onto a couch, leaving the drink to sweat like she did. Exhaustion rarely hit her, but she didn't have the will to fight at the moment. Aisha wanted a break from the bloodshed, a chance to go out and simply eat alongside Onyx, just to calm her nerves. He seemed so far away during all of this, first during their car accident, then on the rooftop, and now… He probably didn't even know she was alive. Aisha wished that something as small as that hadn't had such a devastating effect on her. She was constantly thinking of Onyx these days, even as she watched vampires with lives of their own get ashed by silver bullets every day. _Where was she going in life? Would her future end alone, or would she be able to hold onto Onyx?_ Aisha went from not wanting to fight, to not wanting to move at all, her mind was so distraught. _Perhaps meditation would be a viable solution?_

"Listen Aisha, about Akane," Lucia let the words glide smoothly from her mouth. Aisha didn't move at all, but was intently listening, her forearm blocking her eyes from view. She tried not to breathe, for fear that it might be a distraction from what Lucia was about to say next. If her heart was still beating, Aisha had no idea if it would be hammering against her chest, or stopping dead in its tracks.

"If you're going to tell me that she was a ninja, I already know that." Aisha spat, skimming the surface of Lucia's mind with her inherent ability. After all that she had gone through mostly for Lucia's financial gain, she deserved simple respect. The last thing Aisha wanted to do was hear bullshit. Then again, it was possible that Lucia had lied to her the entire time, and that she didn't know anything about Akane at all. _Why did she trust the older vampire so much? What made her words different from a convict's?_

"Akane could do that as well, pick up on hidden thoughts, but I must say, she did a much better job than you. For instance, you may know that Akane's last name was originally Koga, and that she was a ninja in the Koga clan, but that isn't everything I am thinking, far from it. Did you also know that about 213 years ago she made an attempt on the Shogun's life? It was the ultimate scandal, and a dishonor that lasted centuries. Actually, the Koga clan might still be suffering backlash from Akane's attempted murder today. I bet you know that the Yamakita clan, who your father belongs to, has an extreme hatred for the Koga right? They lynched quite a few of your most capable men over the years and even blinded your most recently discovered brother, am I correct?"

Aisha nodded her head, admonishing Lucia to leave her brother out of the conversation. She was still angry about that, for by now Aiden could be anywhere and near impossible to find once again. Though Aiden bore their father's last name, he was a Koga ninja as well, and they knew how to get around better than any other clan that remained in Japan. Having his scent memorized was one thing, sniffing around the entire world for a trace of it was another. Aisha wasn't a bloodhound. She was about to blurt out a question when Lucia continued.

"The Shogun's direct line was the Yamakita clan. In fact, some say that the only reason Akane was interested in Kaishi was to get closer to the ruler. They were distant cousins in the family line you know, before Kaishi's marriage to Akane scored him a scarlet letter on his chest. The Shogun's protection could only extend so far, so without any other choice; he cast Kaishi to the wayside, where those in disagreement with the marriage _expressed_ their opinions openly."

"You're fucking lying." Aisha's body was trembling, but her fangs were fully present. The look on her face could have killed by itself. It was true that Kaishi was related to the Shogun, even now, but was he alive? Aisha could clearly picture his face, always adorned with a cautious smile. His prudence alone was enough to attract her mother to him, who wasn't just another of his many suitors. The timeline just didn't add up. Markus had turned her into a vampire at age 22, meaning that her mother bore her twenty-two years before that. _How could a vampire over two centuries undead bear any children at all? _Lucia was unfazed at Aisha's feeble threat. "You're telling me my mother was around two hundred years ago to make such an attempt? That's bullshit." Aisha challenged, a strong dosage of fierceness in her red eyes.

Lucia made her hands into a tent and held them before her nose, leaning against the nice ebony table. "Your mother was a vampire long before you could even tell the difference. Don't you wear contacts at Vizuela when you carry out missions for them? I fucking swear you got that habit directly from her. What other vampire do you know, especially one of high status, goes out of their way to hide their lineage? The answer is simple, one that has broken the cosmic laws and has figured out how to bare children with a human nonetheless. If she were still with us, I'd torture her for that knowledge."

Lucia's bitter tone struck harder than her words, and was a slap to Aisha's face. Not only that, but here she was again, bawling her eyes out, and she didn't exactly know why. All that she knew was that here Lucia was saying that her mom used her father Kaishi simply to kill the Shogun, for God knows what reason, dishonoring their entire family name. In addition, Lucia was also calling her an accident, a person that was never meant to be born. That tore at her much more than the mysterious timeline of events, clouding her mind even further, bringing the nerve-wracking sobs along with it.

"I am not an accident!" Aisha cried, clutching her arms tight with her eyes closed. Lucia closed her mouth then, even though the only danger Aisha presented was to herself. However, as she watched Aisha cry longer and longer, unable to do any more than to sink into the crevices of the couch, she started seeing more and more of herself in Aisha's scarlet eyes. This was her, little Lucia, forced to grow up on her own with no support from her avaricious father, or her harlot of a mother. It almost made her want to cry too. At least Aisha could move on with her parents' passing. Lucia had to live every day under the watchful eye of her scornful father, her mother long gone away. She was hundreds of years old, and still treated like any other human that served him. Giuseppe Noblesse was the true definition of heartless. He cared nothing for her, but her money always seemed to matter.

"What the fuck do you want me to do console you?" Lucia screamed, her emotions finally taking over. Veins popped out of her forehead and her face turned a beet red color. Aisha looked up at her, never breaking stride with her now hiccupping sobs. She looked terrible, not just because lightly applied makeup was smeared every which way on her otherwise angular face. Involuntarily, Lucia decided to sit down next to Aisha, but before she could stop the vampire from touching her, Aisha jumped into her arms, crying like a little kid. The contact sparked something within Lucia that she didn't want to admit. Again, it felt like she was mothering Aisha. Akane would owe her big for this if she were alive to hear about it.

"We never choose our lives, they are chosen for us little one." Lucia whispered. Aisha fell instantly asleep, completely forgetting to argue against Lucia's multiple insinuations of her mother's demise.

"Don't say a fucking word Kaiser. Thank you." Lucia rolled her eyes, annoyed. Kaiser stepped out of the shadows, shrugging his shoulders. His biker jacket had fresh bloodstains on it, and she could tell by the color of his hands that he'd been killing, with and without the guns he always carried with him.

"You're welcome. A wave of those eyeless bastards rolled up here today, which is new since they don't organize often. I took care of them, per your request." Kaiser bowed low, his tail practically wagging behind him as her flirted with his eyes. Lucia easily caught onto him. She was no seductress, but could read body language with the best in the world.

"So how are your boys doing over at Impresia's? She's getting quite the impression from Keiji, are you sure you're the only one trying to consort with us vile creatures? I thought you had so much against our existence? Don't tell me the little head is the one controlling your body?" Lucia crooned, gently lying Aisha's head down on a pillow. She was fast asleep and snoring softly.

"Keiji sniffs ashes for you parasites, I'm honestly surprised he gets along so well with you. He may have Impresia enthralled, but there's already a strong black woman in his life that he wouldn't trade for anything this life could offer. As for me, why don't you come find out which of my heads is bigger? Perhaps one of them would mesh with you a lot better than you think?" Kaiser invited himself into the room then, taking down a bottle of Scotch from Lucia's mini-bar and pouring a fat glass full.

"Oh Kaiser, I thought you hated the sight and smell of me, what are you doing in the house? I'm quite sure you're not potty trained yet, so could you return to your duty outside, leaving me to my personal affairs?" Lucia made her way to the bar, a dangerous gleam of adrenaline shooting up her spine. Kaiser could see the lust clouding around her, yet somehow had the feeling that she was still playing around. He wasn't one for games. Just as easily as he taunted her, he could blow her head off.

"You don't smell as bad, and you don't look as bad, but I still fucking hate you. How long until little red over there wins this fucking tourney? I feel the blood thirst growing every day I'm near you bastards." Kaiser mocked, taking a swig out of his glass and then lighting a cigarette, not shocked by Lucia snatching it from him only to smoke a few puffs herself.

"Caspian Queens, I can't stand these faggots." Lucia swore, returning the cheap brand of a cigarette to Kaiser, who shrugged yet again. "There should only be a week's worth of matches left. Granted your wolves handle their job, this will all be over very, very soon." Lucia leaned back against the bar and closed her eyes. With one more victory, she'd have access to Vladimir's blood.

"My boys can handle ours." Kaiser boasted. "Keeping yourself in line should be your top priority." Lucia watched him bow and then exit, wondering how much of she and Aisha's exchange the perceptive wolf had truly picked up.

"Man, if you call Yahtzee one more muthafuckin time, I'm quittin this game!" Lucien yelled, Keiji winning the pot of three hundred dollars. It had been quiet that day over at Impresia's mansion, not at all like the past week, which was full of attempts to end the royal vampire's life. That translated into long boring days for Sutonokami, at least until Impresia's fighter, Isis, had another match.

"Put up, or shut up." Keiji replied setting everything up again. Impresia excused herself, promising a quick return. Having been left alone with Keiji, Lucien finally offered the words he'd been waiting to say all day.

"Keiji, what are we doing? This is the prime opportunity for us to storm Minerva's crib in Jersey! Impresia has already let that piece of information slip, and if we get Kaiser's approval, we can be done with that bitch by the end of the day!" He kept his hands busy by shuffling a deck of Bicycle brand playing cards. Lucien had quick hands for a man over fifty.

"Then go ahead and ask him. Realize that if we go in there ill prepared, she could wipe the floor with us. You know as well as I how many people she's already sent this way to finish the job. Best believe she knows that none of them are returning. Her security is probably airtight. Did you see how many men Impresia gave vacations to when we arrived? They weren't packing just silver stakes either." Keiji's steely glare made Lucien hesitate, but he was ready to be on the move. Being cooped up in a sweet mansion might have been Keiji's style, but Lucien was always ready for more action. Within ten minutes, he had Kaiser's mental approval, and even Warwolf agreed that this was the best time to gain information about Kryzon. Mars was revolving around the sun at an unusually fast pace that day, prompting immediate action, the war was already underway.

"Yo Impresia, we're leaving for a few hours." Lucien shouted, but Keiji held him back. The vampire did not respond, which was good in one sense, bad in another.

"Don't worry man, I've got this. I can handle it. Protect her with your life. I'll be back later tomorrow." Keiji turned his head in the direction Impresia left the room.

"You're not even gonna wait until the full moon Keiji? You know how dangerous that is. You're marching straight into enemy lines!" Lucien waved his hands wide, but Keiji stood his ground, his resolve manifest. Keiji didn't reply verbally.

There was a moment of silent understanding that passed between the two men, Lucien cocking his head to the side and analyzing Keiji thoroughly before laughing it off and patting him on the shoulder. Lucien began a jog after Impresia, knowing that something was amiss. He actually hoped for an intruder.

"Give em hell fam, give em hell." Lucien called back.

Impatience was nipping at his ankles like hungry piranhas. Keiji was tired of chasing leads that led nowhere, and tired of having half of the team under vampire servitude. The faster they found Kryzon, the faster all of it would be over. He could then devote all of his time into finding the killer of Jade's son, and free himself from her captivity. He couldn't wait another 227 hours for the next full moon to rise; he had to act now. The problem was, according to Impresia, Minerva's home address was a modest sized house sitting on a 30-acre plot of land, in southern New Jersey. The only way for Keiji to leave the city, especially while armed, was to breach one of the seven military checkpoints that fully blocked the entrances and exits to the city. As of yet, he had no idea how he would attempt it.

Since no form of public transportation was operational, even with the streets clear, it took him over two hours to reach the nearest military checkpoint. The weather proved to be in his favor, providing a low, dense fog to mist up the area. While Keiji could not shift into his wolf form, he still had sharp vision and a brilliant olfactory system. As he approached the checkpoint, it didn't take a rocket scientist to realize that the whole thing was erupting into chaos. The main military garage was ablaze, and there were gunshots zooming in many directions. The hard funk of the soulless vampires hit Keiji's nose long before he saw one, and the sight disgusted him. Not that he'd ever call a vampire a human, but it was clear that these beings no longer held onto anything. They showed no emotions while rending the flesh of the heavily armed officers and had no qualms with eating them afterward. There was smoke and gunpowder everywhere, almost choking him with the massive amount of noxious fumes in the air. He kept his head low, and crept around the outer perimeter of the checkpoint, careful to avoid any open spaces. He hadn't needed to sneak though; for once the checkpoint was devoid of armed soldiers, the soulless vanished, howling and screeching back within the deeper parts of the city limits.

Upon exiting the checkpoint, there was only a short jog of highway between him and New Jersey, and even with it being after dark, the dramatic difference in the garden state surprised him. There were no flames or orange clouds in the sky, no buildings crumbled into dust, no flipped cars every few feet and most importantly there were people, normal people living their daily lives without fear. Keiji's mouth was wide open as he observed his surroundings with a new appreciation, so he didn't notice a portly man in his 40's directly in front of him. They bumped heads, causing him to fall back onto the sidewalk, the man muttering a string of curses before continuing on his merry way. It felt like a lifetime since Keiji had interacted with anyone like that on the streets of the Nexus. He couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken to someone that wasn't Jade, a member of Vizuela or his pack. Who knew how much longer the vampires would continue to destroy what little was left in the Nexus?

Calling a taxi in New Jersey had been a piece of cake. Keiji even had the pocket change available to pay the hefty fare through limited amounts of nighttime traffic. He was almost positive that the fare meter's increasing numbers leaped forward an extra dollar for every five he would be charged, but didn't complain. The drive to Minerva's was riddled with silence, the cabbie deciding that after a few failed attempts at small talk, that there was no more reason to waste his words. Keiji kept his eyes outside the window, absorbing as much of the scenery as he could. Night-lights glowed in a vibrant city and people were walking, talking, buying, and crying without dread dictating their actions. It was something Keiji guaranteed was taken for granted, and he saw it in a new light now.

The cabbie rudely kicked him out after accepting his green bills with greedy eyes, zooming back to the next poor victim on his quest for money. Minerva had a long, snaking driveway that had to be over a mile in length. The walkway was rimmed with exotic trees, the pink mailbox on the end simply reading 17823. Keiji's nose was proving quite useful that night, for no sooner than he crossed the street to enter the walkway, he could smell musky colognes and adrenaline, they were most likely assassins on Minerva's payroll. He counted about twelve different scents, nothing too much to handle. The weight of the bowie knife in his sleeve increased, just as the beat of his heart did. Since spending so much time watching vampires do the killing, it had been a little bit since he'd gotten some field action. He couldn't be more ready. Keiji could already taste death on his tongue, and victory in his stomach.

Keiji whipped around, the knife sliding down into his strong hands, puncturing a neck faster than lightning. The jugular exploded with red blood, Keiji using his boots to knock away the assailant. Shortly after, he was going hand to hand with two vampires adorned with brass knuckles and foul language. They each died with curses on their lips.

As Keiji moved up the walkway, hardly interested in hiding, he took out people left and right only using the special knife that he'd brought with him. Even though he was armed with a pistol and two grenades, some odd part of him didn't want to make much noise. He killed just enough to alert Minerva of his presence, but not enough to scare her away or attract the local police. The last thing he needed was to become a fugitive outside of the Nexus. He didn't need more cops giving him the evil eye than was necessary; he got enough of that working for Vizuela as a Tracker.

He reached the welcome mat of the peach colored home with little in the way of injuries, and none of his ammunition spent. Keiji paused for fifteen seconds to let the rest of the wolves know his progress telepathically, and received encouragement to move on in response. _Wasn't this too easy?_ He shoulder tackled the door, rounding on the body sandwiched in between it and the wall with a silver stake. Ashes lined the floor. The cheap carpet there was brown and unkempt, barely contrasting the rest of the home. Keiji pressed on, with no time to admire Minerva's choice in floral décor.

The inside of the house was smaller than it appeared on the outside, leaving Keiji to think that it wasn't more than a summer home for Minerva. There were no pictures anywhere, giving the inside a barren, chilly feel to it. Keiji pressed himself against the wall of the main hallway, the itch of old paint against his bare shoulder blades. He could smell Minerva, but he could not pinpoint her location at all. As he made his way to the first room, a kitchen devoid of any visible dishes or Tupperware, a sharp object tore straight through his jacket, making him jump back in surprise. The cut drew blood, but there was more to it than that. Keiji could tell his body was fighting off a poison; he was no stranger to that.

The wall exploded.

Keiji ducked as heavy pieces of drywall and debris whizzed by, creating a storm cloud of dust. It was another assassin, this one with a sparkling knife that glittered with gemstones to rival the knife he clutched onto for dear life. A little girl attacked him from the right, forcing Keiji to throw her arm out of the way, or have her rip open a gaping wound in his gut. The girl foresaw this, and locked his wrist, forcing him to drop his weapon. She slammed her fist in his cheek and floored him. If the guys were here, he might've been embarrassed.

"I guess I should let sleeping dogs lie," she taunted childishly, sticking her tongue out at him. Keiji shook his head once to clear it, and feinted rising to his feet, only to sweep her to the floor. He found that his wrist still pained him, but getting the jump on her was still easy enough. Keiji mashed the weight of his elbow against her neck, choking her; his body weight plenty to stop her pathetic struggling from rewarding her. With a quick blow to her wrist, he disarmed her, and then returned her strike to his face five-fold. Her skin bruised like a tomato, and when he finally got off her, Keiji made sure to steal the knife she'd used against him, placing it safely in one of his breast pockets. Keiji started to walk away when there was a sharp pain at the base of his ankle, and Keiji dropped to one knee, the pain excruciating. He turned and found a fat snake, fangs deep into his flesh. He pinned it to the floor with the assailant's weapon, until it stopped moving. Just to be safe, Keiji took off its head, leaving the little girl on the floor unconscious. He hoped that she was Minerva's last line of defense. His body could naturally fight most poisons, but only for so long.

Trudging as carefully as possible to the second floor without making more noise, Keiji ended up face to face with a butler, rather than more hit men, complete with white gloves and a stainless steel tray with various deserts and drinks across the top. The butler bowed to him, his shiny bald head filled with age wrinkles. The man was fit and African American, and didn't have a fang mark on him at all. To be well into his fifties, there were plenty of places better suited for him to work. Despite that, Keiji's priorities came first.

Keiji shoved the man aside, creating a cacophony of crashes that echoed in the tiny bedchamber. Minerva stood in the center of the room, as if waiting for him, shaking her head with pity.

"Such a rude one you are Keiji. Have you found the murderer of that woman's son yet? I know bondage is all the rage these days, but with a vampire? You must know nothing about taboos between our races." Minerva openly welcomed him into the room, her deep red eyes sinister, if nothing else. Her condescending attitude stretched much further than her demeaning choice of words.

"You know why I've come then; fuck that bullshit about a killer. You know whom it is I really seek. What the fuck have you done with him?" Keiji didn't hide his secret of a pistol any longer. He cocked back the hammer and aimed directly for Minerva's heart. Either way, he'd probably kill her after he got the information he needed.

"My good man, I'm only even in the states for the money, I have no need to enslave one of your puppy pals. Ask my butler there, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Keiji crossed the space between them, pressing the barrel of the gun hard into Minerva's left breast. The poufy antique dress she was wearing had to come from a time period over a century ago. It didn't matter to him. Minerva's sly grin made his half pull on the trigger falter, as if he was a hair away from blowing her into smoke. Minerva feigned a look of fear, fooling Keiji with ease.

"Your friend is in New Amaurot, on the eastern side of the known world. There is no doubt that Vladimir has him caged in the diamond district for sport. There's a castle there, in fact, there's only one castle there, for the rest of the buildings are simply royal manors. Presuming he hasn't killed your werewolf friend by now, that's where he is." Minerva kept her unwavering gaze on Keiji's face, but she was looking closer than just his eyes. Every hair in his goatee told a different story, as well as the weathered lines in the hands that uneasily gripped his pistol. Her eyes didn't betray anything though, and after a few tense moments, Keiji placed the gun back at his hip. The strength of Minerva's compulsion had been more than enough to sway him from firing.

"Must be your lucky day, there's truth in the words you speak." Keiji informed her with confidence, having run the intel straight to Warwolf's mind. He turned to leave, not stopping to apologize to the butler, who scowled at him. The state of the kitchen came to mind, making Keiji chuckle. Someone was in for a busy night of cleaning.

"Sterk Lionheart is the true man you're after Keiji! You may or may not believe me, but I guarantee it was he who murdered that woman's child. Age never lies my dear and I am quite old you see." Minerva called after him. When he stopped in his tracks, she was satisfied. Whether or not the information was right, it would still put him and his sizable wallet at odds with Vizuela, and that was exactly what she wanted. Recklessness and foolhardy impulses would be the Minerva's keys to obtaining everything Keiji owned and loved.

"Gabriel, how is he?" Blade was met with complete silence on the other end. Blade had a strong feeling that Gabriel would sugarcoat whatever words he chose next.

"The wound is not deep, but he won't stop sweating. Even though externally James's systems are completely stable, there are chemical reactions going on inside of him that, to be honest, we have no control over. We'll have to wait until the symptoms deriving from the reactions stop, but I can tell you right now that he is conscious and well. I can't get him to speak however."

Blade tucked his head and sighed. It was because of Onyx's sacrifice that he'd been able to pin down Markus and take him out, but Blade felt like the kill had done relatively nothing in the grand scheme of things. Sure, he got a hook that led him closer to Vladimir Drovsky, but how could he call himself a vampire slayer or protector of a city, when the one city he currently lived in was being destroyed and overrun by vampires? Not only that, but someone close to him had been almost killed, his protégé. The thought brought back Markus's final words as his head rolled. He'd mentioned the God of Amaurot, and the legendary artifacts. Blade would bet all of his money that Vladimir was there, sitting on a throne, orchestrating each of these attacks, but what was his ultimate goal? Numerous vampires had coveted his blood; numerous vampires had been slain in pursuit of it. Seeing as how Vladimir himself wasn't on American soil visiting him personally, there had to be something greater that he was missing…but what was that?

"Gabriel, listen. How soon could you get me up and out of here on a private jet to Amaurot? I've got a hunch that that's where this shitstorm will end. I take out Vladimir, ashes to ashes, dust to dust."

"It will take a minimum of a few days, but are you sure Blade? I hate to say it, but storming an imperial castle with a hothead youngster and a love struck samurai may not be the best way to approach this. Do you even have all of Vladimir's items? You wouldn't want to travel halfway across the world and not even be able to see the man now would you? Could you imagine a simple locked doorway being enough to hinder saving the entire world? The castle has been there for decades, I know how it operates." Blade could almost see Gabriel adjusting his glasses and stroking his beard on the other side of the line. His family ran one of the only hospitals that were left standing in the Nexus, and they were much too far off the grid to be tracked down by mindless freaks. If Gabriel said that he could get Blade a private jet, despite the aerial lockdown and martial law imposed by SPECS, Blade believed him.

"Just get me that jet; I'll take care of the rest. You can fly me out yourself if you want to give me a tour of the castle." Blade hung up the phone before Gabriel could respond. It eased Blade's spirits a little that Onyx hadn't sustained any life threatening injuries and that he wasn't on the verge of losing his sight and becoming a soulless vampire. Aisha was still working the tournament, almost finished, if what Lucia relayed to him was correct. Now if he could just get rid of one more thing, an annoying vampire convinced that she was in love with his subordinate, he'd be great.

"So what will you do now Blade? You killed one of Vladimir's elders, but these eyeless miscreants are still ravaging the city. You've gathered a few of Vladimir's items, but are still missing the sword, and the ring, and on top of all that, there's a war erupting straight in your backyard that may soon attract the attention of the United States government. What's your next step?" Tiffany batted her eyelashes playfully at him, making Blade struggle not to backhand her. He took a deep breath and calculated. Things were looking grim on many fronts.

"I'll go straight to Amaurot and finish this myself. Whoever is leading these soulless vamps knows what they're doing; they've compromised eight of my other bases and are using them as fortified strongholds to fight against SPECS, which means that they're probably corrupted as well. With me in the shadows, or leaving, the only front left to defend the city is the military and the police, and united, it looks like they're failing. These grunts are tearing down seven-foot tall battle mechs as if they had a mind of their own, which they don't, not with hive-mind personalities engraved into their DNA. Instead of aimlessly looking for their boss, I'm taking it straight to the CEO himself." Blade cracked his neck, pulling up a citywide map on his laptop, which flashed with bright colors. There were nine green dots on the screen, representing breached bases that he could no longer return to. It was hell. Not only were there thousands of dollars lost with every command center that was corrupted, there was also technology and weaponry lost that was crucial in this fight. Since Kyle's unfortunate end, Blade didn't have many leads on weapon shops that specialized in his trade, and with Squeaks gone, there was no underground network to provide him with the latest information and happenings around the city. When it was all said and done, Lucia would be the only person outside of his immediate circle that would have access to the most information, even moreso than the entirety of Vizuela's pooled resources.

"If the most powerful piece leaves the board, the rest of them are nothing more than sitting ducks." Tiffany cooed, stirring her sweet tea a bit too harshly.

"Pawns can always be promoted to the most powerful piece on the board, so that when the original piece comes back into play, there are suddenly an army of powerful pieces to overwhelm the enemy with." Blade countered.

"Hah, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that you might as well be Vladimir yourself! You're talking like you command a force to be reckoned with or something." Tiffany laughed, mocking Blade.

"You have no idea." Blade smirked, his eyes shifting from brown to gold.

Anubis's laughter was sickly sweet. Using intuition alone, he'd sniffed out eight of Blade's many hideouts, armed to the teeth with substantial weaponry for his vampire generals to wield. The soulless vampires didn't have the mental capacity to use such advanced technology, but they did a damn good job of being sacrificial lambs for Blade's crafty traps. They could take down a building with the snap of a finger, and even against the battle mechs SPECS had sent to save the city, numbers meant more than anything. Fifty against thousands, it was only a matter of time. The best thing about it was that he'd hardly had to lift a finger during the entire ordeal. Ten more than capable soldiers had become generals with significant military prowess with just a touch of fang. With their coordinated attacks under his direction, it would be easy to take SPECS HQ in one swoop. For now, he focused on sealing the escape routes that led out of the city even further, blocking out the military checkpoints with vampire minions and taking control of key buildings involved not only with the Nexus's government, but also with international trade. He didn't know how much longer the Executive Branch would ignore the destruction of the Nexus, but just about all communications outside of the state were shut down. If they hadn't yet, the soulless would soon be destroying the majority of telephone lines that ran through the city streets. Life was going pretty well.

When the sun rose the next day, Anubis made up his mind. He was going to burn SPECS HQ to the ground, but only after he destroyed the remaining fifteen nanosuits. He had to give it to Syfy, staggering the mech releases for half an hour meant that there would be a full day's operation out and in the field, leaving time for the first nanosuit to recycle in order with the rest. There was never any downtime, at least, not before he had gotten to them. The soulless weren't immune to daylight and couldn't do anything but hide under the bright star, but on the other hand, Anubis had figured out the mechs' weaknesses with a single analysis. If the pilot became panicked, systems failed. Tear off the arms and disconnect the pilot from the suit's adaptability matrix. Do both, and there was nothing left but a psychologically damaged vegetable, ready to be turned.

Anubis checked in on his ten lieutenants, receiving all clear messages. The rarely used subway system provided ample cover for the thousands of vampires that would burn in the sunlight. Anubis opened the window to a nice loft he'd chosen to accommodate, watching the sun's slow descent in the sky. When it set, the Nexus was his.


	16. Chapter 15: Vassals of the Order

**Chapter Fifteen**

"Aisha, House of Noblesse," the announcer called, prompting Aisha to rise from her seat at Lucia's over-decorated table. She wore a deep fuchsia cocktail dress that shimmered in the light when she moved. Aisha had never worn something so gaudy in her life, even when she was trying to be formal. She rose in response to the voice and then bowed toward the front stage, where Lucia, Minerva and Impresia were temporarily sitting. She sat down shortly afterward as several other fighters' names were called, most of which held ten victories under their belts. The ceremony was nothing more than blood, wine and gossip, and was over before Aisha knew it.

"Geez, you'd think I was your daughter or something. I mean, House of Noblesse? I know you're a noble and all, but did they really have to say it like that? I feel like I've aged a century in one night." Aisha rubbed her fingers against her temples. The meeting was a temporary reprieve, for they were returning to the arena in a luxury vehicle as they spoke.

"Traditions and procedures, you'll enjoy the monotony once you're older Aisha. Right now your blood still boils and you long for change at every turn, but when you've worked decades on a project and such change puts everything you've worked for in jeopardy, you'll crave stagnancy." Lucia laughed, extracting a music box from beneath her seat. When she opened it, there was a glass test tube inside, filled to the rubber stopper with crimson blood. Lucia turned the vial over again and again in her hands.

"Doesn't seem like an all powerful immortal's blood does it? I've heard that it grants substantial immunity to silver." Aisha asked her, scoffing as she did so. For her 20th victory in the tournament she had received a vial of Vladimir Drovsky's blood, but it didn't smell right to her. She'd considered presenting it to Blade, but it wasn't like he was a scientist or blood analyst. Instead of discarding the prize, she'd given it to Lucia to do what she wished with it.

"I have no need to dilute my blood with that of a supposed legend. Besides, when the head of the line disappears, so shall the vampires in his subservience. I do believe that ingesting this would place you in Vladimir's line. I'd rather not die when Blade destroys him, but I do have the perfect plan for this." Lucia closed the box again as they exited the long, underground tunnel that led to the coliseum grounds. "Are you ready to fight again, Succubus Nyx?" She shared a laugh with Aisha at her tournament nickname, spearing off from her sponsor toward the lower levels where all the gladiatrix warriors went before matches. She was instantly greeted by Isis, closely followed by Kylecia and Stray, the latter duo wearing matching dreadlocked hairstyles. Surprisingly, approaching her from behind them were about twenty other women, close to forty five percent of the remaining fighters had come to her, and she didn't understand why.

"What is all of this?" Aisha asked, looking around, bewildered. She'd had little time to change from the cocktail dress into a plain white shirt and shorts in Lucia's car, and now her skin longed for the tightness of her special gladiatrix outfit. It almost felt suffocating having this many women around her at once.

"We're all rooting for you to kick Kendra's ass and come home with the prize." Kylecia stated bluntly. With Aisha at her side, she muscled her way through the crowd, preventing Aisha from drowning in a sea of congratulations and encouraging cheers. Aisha crossed the showers and made her way to the main waiting area, which was fashioned out of a storybook. Straw covered the grounds and there were a few scarecrow training targets, along with wooden martial arts poles and even an archery wall that hardly anyone ever used. It was there that she noticed the rest of the women in the tournament, singing the same praises for Kendra, practically bowing at her feet worshipping her. Her arrogant attitude pissed Aisha off to no end; at least she retained her humility.

"Time to go! You know matches twenty-one through twenty-four are all gonna be tonight don't you?" Stray moved a few wandering locks out of her face and ushered her into a changing stall. On her other side, Isis was handing her the pieces of her battle gear, including her golden sandals and humongous pauldron. Tears actually formed in the young vampire's eyes.

"Ladies y'all know you're the best right?" Aisha sniffed quietly while stripping, changing into her outfit and masking her persona with the one embodied by the gear. Isis wiped her tears for her.

"Hush all the noise, and go ahead and kick some asses!" The three women smiled at her as they made the final push that put Aisha back into the arena once more. Though she had once considered changing her primary attack weapon, the Swiss knife had surely grown on her, and she couldn't wait to hold it again. Cheering fans surrounded her, and she casually waved up to them while waiting exceptionally long for the arrival of her arms. _Was something different this time?_

"Ladies and Gentleman, presenting our new game mode, Silver Stakes!" As the announcer blared the information over the loudspeakers, Aisha shot Lucia the largest WTF look she could muster. Whether or not the royal vampire was aware of this change, Aisha didn't receive so much as a glance in response. Aisha bit her lip nervously; she hated being ill-prepared. Her attention turned to a small, remote-controlled helicopter, from which dangled a destructive shiv with an edge of pure silver. As the copter banked left and right, the weapon moved along with it, securely fastened to a thin rope. Aisha scanned the crowd for the copter's controller, it was impossible to pinpoint them among the sea of faces. Betting was now underway.

"In this mode, it's kill or be killed as the high powered copter zooms around the arena with the only available weapon with which to strike down your opponent! Fight as you must, using any melee techniques you have learned without the elements, but surefire victory lies within the only edge of silver available! Anything goes in this one on one brawl to determine who will be the last to go to ash!"

At this, the crowd roared a chorus of last to ash, until it made her ears ring. Aisha took her eyes off of the dangling weapon for a second to take a good look at her opponent. She of course, had a gleaming pauldron protecting her dominant arm—her left—, as well. Tournament rules dictated that match ups for fights had to be within three victories of each other, preventing an overwhelming defeat by means of better equipment. The armor her foe wore was all hues of the rainbow, and her blonde hair had been styled recently, along with her carefully manicured nails. The woman wore diamond earrings and high heels for God's sake! This had to be some type of joke.

"Begin!" The announcer cried, pushing her forward at blinding speed. Aisha underestimated the child's toy, for it moved the stake out of her reach just as she arrived at the center of the field. She was going to run headlong into Mrs. Prissy, but the other vampire seemed prepared for such an evasive maneuver. Her heel slashed across Aisha's face, drawing blood and knocking her down on the sandy earth. Aisha hocked and spit. _By any means necessary huh? _She cursed Lucia mentally for hiding the details on this new game mode from her.

Aisha stood to her feet, watching the woman make a fool out of herself chasing the dangling shank like a donkey after a carrot. It was quite amusing watching her miss, time and time again as she grabbed for the weapon, even though the chopper never increased its overall altitude. Watching, it looked like the controller of such a machine had spent decades mastering the art, because no matter how fast the vampire could run, the copter was ahead in strategy, able to cleanly evade her grabby hands. It would not last forever. People paid for blood and not a game of tag. Aisha waited patiently for the moment, just as she had in the beginning. Nothing was different really.

Aisha watched the dolled up vampire's fingers close around the shiv, and at that same moment, Aisha was ramming her full body weight into her side in a powerful tackle. The move floored the ill prepared enemy, who lost all her breath as her back hit the ground. The stake had left her hands the moment Aisha hit her, and now, in Aisha's fatal grip, the match was won. Aisha lodged the shiv in her opponent's neck to the hilt, stomping on it from a lording position of power over her. Her opponent's breath stopped, and there was blood everywhere, but she did not go to ash. The announcer declared Aisha the victor, and instead of returning to the waiting area, she merely rested against a wall while a familiar executioner entered the arena, popping six shells into her foe's body, at last turning her into a plume of ashes.

"She must've drunk Vladimir's blood." Aisha murmured aloud to no one in particular, struggling to confront a throbbing headache that suddenly assaulted her. When the executioner left the stage, the chopper continued to fly, hovering in the center of the arena, blood still dripping from the dangling weapon. She stood to her feet and walked toward the line of white chalk that marked her starting point; her opponent would have to stand behind one as well. Aisha didn't bother worrying about her enemy's features this time; she was already bored for the day.

The announcer screamed the start of the match, but neither of the combatants rushed to the floating piece of deadly silver; instead, they had started a slow, counter-clockwise circle around it, never once taking their eyes off each other. It was as interesting as it was annoying. Aisha could recognize that her opponent knew the folly of heading straight for the weapon, and how foolish it would make her look to the audience, but she wasn't into copycats. When her opponent kicked up dust rushing at her, Aisha knew it would boil down into fists first, death later.

As if batting aside a fly, Aisha deflected a heavily ringed fist away from her face, crushing her elbow into her opponent's exposed back. The woman fell like a rock. Aisha pounced on her; ready to beat her senseless, but her foe was no fool. With snakelike agility, she protected herself, positioning herself just right to trap Aisha in a deadly triangle choke. As thighs tightened around her neck, closing her windpipe, Aisha knew that it would only be a matter of time before she went unconscious, a sitting duck to the slaughter. Using her free hand, she pricked herself in the center of her forehead, and felt the emotions she felt evaporate along with the small stream of blood that ran wildly into her eyes. This was the first match in which she'd had to invoke Musou mode.

Aisha's vision was black and white, and she could not feel pain. Rather than scrabble at the crushing force of thighs that made blood rush to her skull, Aisha slammed her closed fist into lower ribs, breaking them. Her opponent let her go soon after, screaming, but Aisha was far from done. Her foe's nails scraped across her face, but even so, Aisha punched again and again, leaving a large purple welt on the bare skin that would have become a sickly green color, if she'd let it. When she was satisfied that the skin was tender enough, she straightened each of her fingers and cut straight through the exterior, pulling out one of the woman's broken ribs. Blood stained her beautiful outfit, but the crowds behind her screeched like maniacs. Aisha didn't delight in the incapacitation, for it was an emotion she could not express at the current time. She walked to the chopper, snatching the shank off it roughly, almost nicking herself with the blade. When she plunged it into the pathetic heap of blood and bone, she was rewarded with the smell of burning flesh and ashes. Aisha forced her mind to come to her senses, clearing the headache in her mind and restoring color to her vision. The amount of screams in her favor continued through the next match, where again, neither of the combatants went for the weapon. Too much time had passed with them idly circling, so the remote pilot simply dropped the shiv onto the ground. Aisha went for the rope, while her buxom, battle-scarred assailant went for the weapon. Aisha was faster, whipping the weapon away from her, and into her more than capable hands. From there, the match had been decided in her favor, just like the others, ending with charred remains of what used to be a gladiatrix. The only thing in her way of complete victory and Vladimir's ring now, was Kendra.

The wolves waited patiently for Warwolf's word, under a musky sixty watt bulb that struggled to illuminate the full space of the cabin. It was odd to see him outside of his transformed body, a 78-year-old monk originally from Spain. Wrinkles crowded his face, devouring it in wavy lines, and his darkened green eyes were well weathered with the experience of seeing millions of things in their lifetime. Because of this, it was easy to tell the wisdom that Warwolf somehow contained within his aging mind just by looking at him. In fact, it was also easy to tell how fit he was, for his legs were not only crossed Indian style, but flexed to the point where his ankles grazed his upper thighs. The man wore a simple white garment that covered half of his chest and his lower body, exposing an intricate tattoo of prayer words and chants on his left breast. He was bald, but aside from a few wrinkles, had perfect skin. Warwolf's trance ended and he addressed the other three.

"Brothers, it is time. The surface temperature of Mars is at its hottest in over ten years, we must move. Our destination is New Amaurot, the City of Vampires. We must go and retrieve Kryzon from vampire bondage, and return the pack to its former glory." Warwolf spoke with a deep rumbling thunder that ordinarily seemed unfit for a man of his age and stature, but nevertheless, everyone bowed in respect. Even Kaiser submitted to the words, waiting to hear more. An edict from Warwolf was not to be taken lightly, ever.

"How do we get there from a city in complete lockdown? We've gotta get overseas to make it to Amaurot, does Mars say anything about that? What about this vampire who has Kryzon captive? Can we take his fucking head while we're there?" Lucien's words penetrated the thick haze of cigarette smoke that clouded the room. Keiji and Kaiser groaned internally at the questioning, but Warwolf had a smile on his face. It was also very rare to see such a sight. They were just being hit with miracle after miracle today. Perhaps Warwolf would continue blessing them with good news. Kaiser could only hold his breath in extended silence while waiting for the cryptic wolf to reply.

"Lucien, we fly. SPECS has an unused airspace on the outskirts of their headquarters, so far untouched by the hands of the soulless. We must steal one of their Black Hawks, and take the air by storm before vampires take the headquarters. This I have seen and know to be true."

"That's some deep shit." Keiji nodded. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that Warwolf's word was veritable, but it was crazy how accurate the man had it. Based on five minutes of conversation, they knew that SPECS was currently controlling the air, had an escape plan if need be, and that the soulless hadn't figured out how to completely box SPECS in yet because they hadn't yet converged on SPECS HQ. It was deep. There weren't too many other ways to describe it.

"A word of warning to you, Kaiser." Warwolf's face darkened, narrowing his piercing gaze. He unfolded his legs and stood perfectly straight, walking directly up to the pack's Alpha. Kaiser didn't dare move, Warwolf almost standing chest to chest with him, though almost a foot shorter. "Vengeance will not soothe a wounded soul. You may harbor hatred deep within your heart, but that is not without its balance of love. If you continue to hold this grudge, or take justice into your own hands, you will doom the entire pack. Pride goeth before a fall, and Sutonokami is not a pack that I would let fall Kaiser. Be mindful." There was a vortex of wind that whipped around him, and in the next second, there was a powerful silver wolf dashing out of the cabin.

As if it hit them all at once, three cigarettes were stamped out, and three bodies followed the wolf into the streets of the Nexus. Most of the city was burned and broken, absent of the commodity of normal human life. For the first ten minutes of their journey to the abandoned air field, there was nothing but an eerie silence, each wolf navigating expertly through the heavily littered streets, despite the near pitch darkness. Telephone lines were down everywhere, broken wires sparking randomly, creating even more perilous obstacles for them to face. They were about twenty miles from the air field according to Warwolf when the soulless noticed them.

"Hold formation! Open fire!" Kaiser abandoned his handlebars just long enough to cock his favorite shotgun, blasting through a ravenous vampire's face. He was still moving on his wolf-style motorcycle, so he cleanly avoided the blood spatter that followed. Kaiser had to admit that it was strange seeing blood instead of ashes, but fangs were fangs, and eyeless humans with fangs would not be shown any mercy. His teammates continued firing away, as the soulless emerged from the shadows in waves, like ants attracted to cane sugar.

Warwolf was a beauty to watch in combat. After tearing out a dozen throats, it became obviously clear that the soulless feared him, the shining silver wolf with sharp green eyes. With looks alone, the creature could paralyze a whole group of vampires, which gunfire dispatched immediately. Maneuverability for Warwolf turned petty things like overturned vehicles and dangerous electric lines into jokes. His powerful legs rocketed him forward, jaws and claws shredding flesh with ease. Nothing could touch him.

Once they passed SPECS HQ, they left their cycles on a side street, walking the rest of the distance to the air field. Sure enough, there were four Black Hawks docked side by side ready to go. Keiji would have felt sorry for SPECS if Sutonokami had been followed by the soulless, only, they hadn't been. Sutonokami had cleared the way, leaving no one behind them at all. Though leaving their bikes behind may not have been the best choice, when the chopper burst through the night clouds, it was hard to resist looking at the rapidly changing view below. Surprisingly, it was Lucien who flew the bird, having been a pilot some twenty years ago. As Kaiser gazed upon the large expanse of dark, mysterious ocean beneath him, he wondered if Kryzon's thoughts would soon connect with his mind.

"Towers two and three are down, our outer wall is crumbling, we've gotta get the hell out of here! Have all workers been safely transported from the premises?" Syfy started to descend toward the garages, Dr. Rashidli quick on his heels.

"I can't connect with anyone, we're in the dark right now, and I think they've taken down our communications towers." Dr. Rashidli physically winced at the intensity of the curse word Syfy blurted from his mouth. The executive had no time to stop though, for vampires were starting to creep into the building. Communications might have been down, but their alarm systems worked just fine. In conjunction with his high tech watch, he could vaguely predict the soulless' attack pattern. He had to stay one step ahead, always.

"Do you have a gun Nadira?" Syfy asked, turning to her and stopping, his hands on her shoulders. Dr. Rashidli ignored the butterflies that came from hearing Jonathan call her by her first name and shook her head. He gave her a pistol, favoring the ultraviolet light sword instead. Syfy briefly grabbed the wall as the building rocked with what sounded like a bomb exploding. Time was running out.

Without access to a working elevator, the descent to the garage from the financial planning floors was hellish. Syfy tried as best as he could to take the shortest, vampire-free route, but failed. They had only descended five floors, and still had a whopping twenty-six to go when Syfy had to use his blade. Luckily for him, despite the often cramped quarters most of the stairwells provided, the sword could change its length, becoming as small as a switchblade if necessary. The versatile weapon also turned his opponents into ash because of the ultraviolet light, rather than creating bloodshed via silver bullets. Syfy could tell that Dr. Rashidli was both nervous and afraid, for they were on the run in one of the most secure facilities in the city. Reality hit like a pro boxer's right hook; they were being overrun by creatures of the night, and there was nothing they could do about it.

"Look alive!" Syfy yelled, brusquely shoving her to the side. A vampire pulled its claws back, coming away with a piece of her blazer, smirking. Syfy's slash went through the vampire's neck, and deep into its chest. He burst into flames soon after. When Syfy gazed at Nadira, she had sunk to the ground in a slump, her arms wrapped around herself, her body trembling. Syfy had never seen her like this before.

"Are we going to die here Jonathan? What if they've taken the garage? What if the airfield has already gone to hell? How would we escape then?" She had borderline hysteria, and her voice was rising into higher and higher pitches. Syfy glanced around the corner ahead, and behind them to make sure the way was clear, before stooping down to her level. They had to hurry. Vampires could block them in at anytime.

"Listen, you've got to have a little faith. We've been doing this for years, now it's time to save ourselves so that we can do our jobs in the years to come."

Dr. Rashidli's eyes were bloodshot with tears. She looked up at him, and then threw her gun away, hitting him square in the chest. She was looking for something more than a sense of security and a steely resolve from him, but wasn't satisfied. "I'm not firing that thing. I can't kill them, not when they look…they still seem human to me!"

Syfy cursed again, thankful to the heavens that the gun had not gone off, and fired dead in the center of his chest. It was still loaded, and had he not caught the weapon before it hit the ground catastrophically, it could have ended either one of them. Syfy made sure to place the weapon on safety. Nadira was in a crazy state of mind right now, but he had no idea what he could do to soothe that. "You don't have to kill them; I will protect you. Now stand Nadira. We've got quite a ways to go, and I can't have my right hand falter at a time like this. I need you." Part of him was unsure what happened next. Whether or not there was an aligning of the planets, or two of his brain cells slammed into each other with too much force, he did not know, but when he lightly grabbed her chin, he drowned in her lips shortly afterward.

The kiss was as powerful as lightning, but as soft as a gentle winter snow. As his mind swam with hundreds of different reactions, his curiosity and urge to explore grew, though completely inappropriate at that time. Try as he might, he couldn't pull away from her sweet taste for the longest time, but when he did, she had a beautiful smile on her face, despite her puffy eyes. "You think you can move for me?" He asked her, staring into her gorgeous eyes. He was staring so deeply in awe that he could see his own reflection within them, and boy was he grinning hard.

Nadira looked right back at him, her heart exploding against her breast in rapid movements. She nodded her assent, because words would not leave her mouth. Her brain was fried by the kiss; she could barely fathom a way to describe it. Explosive, amazing, sexy, they were all under the mark of what an amazing experience it was. The kiss was dramatically different from the one she had given him in his office, there was passion, longing and an underlying need within it that made her think of late nights and slow, erotic sex. She was so enticed by the wave of new fantasies that came to mind that she didn't see the cold body rush past, knocking him to the floor, fangs bared.

As if a switch had been flipped, she scrabbled for the gun that had fallen out of his hands, but the vampire inadvertently kicked her in the face in his struggle against Syfy. The blow made her vision blur, but she had to keep trying. The concrete floor cut into her hands, making them raw, but the feel of cold metal calmed her. She remembered Jonathan's shooting lessons from years ago, disengaging the safety and smoothly preparing the weapon to fire. As she aimed down the sights, she had to watch the wriggling mass of flesh struggle against itself, fists and legs moving every which way. Syfy didn't have a free hand to reach his weapon and engage its ultraviolet light, so it was hand to hand in a show of brute strength. Nadira knew that if she didn't do something fast, Syfy would lose. She knew she would never forgive herself if he was turned because of her hesitation.

Syfy struggled against the vampire, getting slugged in the face as a consequence. His top priority was keeping the salivating fangs away from his body. Soon, disgust crossed his face just like the merciless amount of vampire spit that made his clothes adapt a moldy, funky smell. He took another hit to the face, and could taste the blood in his mouth from involuntarily biting his cheek. This excited the vampire, who struggled against him with more fortitude than before. With such a singular, tunneled vision, Syfy knew the vampire was too distracted to accurately focus on him entirely. The vampire swiped at him again, claws raking along the concrete, nails shattering with the extreme amount of force. Syfy thrust his hips up, making the vampire smash his head into the opposite wall. It was just the break he needed.

Syfy rolled the hefty man off him, whipping around with his knife at the ready. Before he could move, a bullet hit his enemy square in the chest, fizzling as blood erupted from the open wound. Dr. Rashidli's panting breaths drew his attention, and he swore she had never looked more attractive in her entire life. She crossed him, leading the march down the stairwell, calling after him to keep up if he could.

When they reached the basement levels, they didn't encounter any vampires. Syfy activated the lockdown process from a remote terminal, effectively sealing off the upper levels, now they just had to reach the cars.

"Jonathan, Nadira, this way!" Oberon burst from the shadows, leading them to a silver expedition that was up and running. Syfy checked the vehicle once he slid into the passenger side, noting that only Ace, their teenage hacker was inside.

"Is there anyone else we can save Oberon? Anyone we can get on a walkie, a pager, or something?" Syfy turned to Oberon, who didn't respond at first.

"There's no one. The only person that knows what's going on in the building is Ace here, and from what he has said, with the lockdown in place, all of the upper levels are compromised. No one can get out now." He floored the pedal and zoomed out of an underground tunnel, which emerged into the city five miles away. When they screeched to a harsh stop, only one chopper remained, fortunately enough for the four of them to occupy.

"We've gotta hurry," Ace said, directing everyone's attention behind them. There were thousands of vampires closing ranks, only half a mile away from their location.

"Get this thing into the sky Oberon!" Syfy commanded, after the last of them had taken a seat and strapped themselves in tightly. Oberon complied, rising off the ground the moment the vampires invaded the airfield, causing massive destruction in their wake. The chopper was only halfway fueled, but it would be enough to get them to a safe house. The city belonged to the soulless now.

"We're running out of ammo, and they're not dying like they should be!" Trigger called, splitting a head with a well placed sniper shot. In the distance, more clouds of black smoke spiraled into the sky, choking the atmosphere. This wasn't a good thing. The scope of destruction and lack of manpower to suppress it meant that SPECS had either withdrawn from the fight, or had been turned with the masses. Panther threw him a clip, and Trigger caught it cleanly. Even with advanced preparations, the vampires still knew how to scale walls. With a bird's eye view of the scene, things were getting pretty dicey for them. While all four walls surrounding their hideout were up and intact, the vampires still mobbed together, walking, kicking, and flailing to get inside. Bodies became stairwells, and though Vici could fire into the pile to try and slow the soulless down, there was no use. Whether a body or a corpse, as long as they didn't go to ash, other vampires could still use their lifeless forms as stairs. It was only fruitful to aim at those that had managed to stand atop the wall, or had scaled it. Vampire stink already filled their abode.

"Just try to ration man; do we have any more grenades?" Panther asked, but Trigger shot his hopeful idea down. "We only have three flash grenades and one semtex left, but at this point, if we throw a semtex, our wall is gone, and without that wall," Trigger shrugged his shoulders, taking out another vampire by blasting a hole in his chest. Shrapnel from flash grenades would still be powerful enough to blow the wall, especially with the combustion that usually followed a vampire's death.

"We're fucked." Panther finished for him. "How you doin' down there baby?" He called to Angela, who had the rather unpleasant task of burning the bodies with a complex lighting rig and over two hundred feet of extension cords.

"Just peachy. Are you sure it was smart holing up here? What the hell are we gonna do if they knock out the power?" Satan himself must've been listening, for the minute she finished her question, all of the electricity within the base shut off, and a small electrical fire roared up much too fast to contain. Angela's only option was to scramble to the rooftop with her team, who were very much aware of the severity of the situation.

"Looks like this is it guys." Panther noted, dropping his Uzis, watching dozens of creatures scale the cement wall. The inferno dissuaded only a few of them from advancing, the rest had a hunger so fierce, that burns would never compare. They would gladly risk a fiery demise just to fill their bellies. Vici didn't even bother watching the wall any more, instead, the three of them lined up, shoulder to shoulder, guarding the sole entrance to the roof. Panther could feel the familiar tugs of the animal instinct deep within him, instructing him to flee. He could make the jump from the rooftop to the wall, and he would be able to escape, but his devotion to his teammates far exceeded that.

Trigger lobbed a flash grenade which ashed fifteen vampires. He threw the other two UV grenades, which stopped only a few of their countless foes. The foundation of the building shook, making the members of Vici lose their balance. Panther recovered fastest, able to lunge forward at one of the oncoming vampires, plunging his artificial claws deep in the sucker's throat. Others passed him though, headed directly for his more vulnerable teammates. Panther turned around, as the world slowed down to a crawl. Trigger, guarding Angela, had his chest torn open, and then he fell off the rooftop. Angela tried to attack with her knives, but didn't hit any vital points, and was soon surrounded. They were doomed. Keith could not protect his team, a reality that made the thought of death that much more painful.

"Pick up the pace, asshole!" Mariko yelled, pushing off the ground with a bound so high, she scaled the concrete wall in one go, arms clamping around the falling man, who wasn't yet unconscious. Mariko backed them into a corner, as enemies advanced, smelling bloody flesh. She let the wound bleed slightly longer, and then patched him as best as she could with a large section of her own colorful clothing. "You're a marksman right? Shoot this." Mariko crouched in front of him, building a small semi-circle fort made of tables, furniture and various debris around them in seconds. Trigger didn't need to be told twice. Despite the injury, Trigger adapted to the launcher's weight quite easily. While there were plenty of flashing buttons and switches, it was all too easy for him to understand. When he fired the gun Mariko handed him, two pikes shot out of the barrel, puncturing the walls of the living room. After five seconds, a powerfully bright light connected the two spikes, and any vampire who walked through the beam died in a plume of black ashes, effectively guarding them from frontal attacks.

"Where did you find this?" Trigger asked, marveling at the firepower. Included in the single weapon were also a UV grenade launcher and a flamethrower.

"Less talking, more firing." Mariko snapped, abandoning the cover for silent, but deadly physical assaults with her poisonous claws. She wondered what was taking Joe and Sterk so long.

"Blow this bitch!" Sterk hollered, carving his claymore through three vampires, with one attack killing them instantly. He retreated away from the fortified wall, giving Joe a wide enough space to throw the grenade into the tower of bodies. When it exploded, appendages and gore rained from the sky, along with dangerous chunks of hard, bloody rock. "Keep em ATV's running. This won't be long." Sterk told Joe, who spat on his hands, rubbing them together. There was still a steady funnel of vampires headed their way, especially due to the ruckus caused by the sound of the grenade's explosion. They were fools to attack him and his rune magicked broadsword.

Wherever Joe swung, ash followed, and he weaved through his targets effortlessly. Out of the fifty vamps headed toward the wall, only two of them were able to pass him, and that was only because of the added time Joe took to protect the three ATV's that the three chiefs of Vizuela had brought along with them from damage.

Sterk was as calm as ever entering the fiery remains of what may have been a nice little spot to chill in. After being assaulted from vampires jumping from the roof for the fifth time, he decided to bring the house down rather than continue slaying the vampires one by one, regardless of how easy it would be for him to clean house. At heart, the soulless disgusted him, down to his very core. It wasn't exactly the humans' fault that they had been subjected to Markus's massive hook, but nonetheless, being forced to live without a soul or a mind had to be one of the cruelest punishments ever devised. Weaving past hungry fangs, Sterk's sword was merciless, whether or not the vampires attempted any sort of defense didn't matter, his sword cleaved them in two regardless. Satisfied with himself, Sterk went straight for the foundational pillars of the accommodation, taking them out with ease. He whistled loudly enough for Mariko to hear, and suddenly, the remaining five of them were outside of the wall, watching the building collapse on itself, vampires shrieking as the inferno set them ablaze or crushed their bodies.

"You did well out there marksman, do you have a name?" Mariko led Trigger to the largest ATV, patting the seat behind her. Mariko also blatantly ignored Sterk's loud string of curses, paying him back by flipping him the bird. Trigger ran his fingers through his scraggly beard, gladly taking a seat behind the limber woman with purple hair. It would be a lie to say that he wasn't attracted to her, despite over a decade of life experience between them.

"Not one that I can remember." Trigger admitted, all but too honestly. Mariko zoomed away from their destroyed home and Trigger looked back at the flames. It was hard to believe the sheer amount of things that went up in the blaze along with the building. There were just as many happy memories in that conflagration as valuables, whether they were material or sentimental. Trigger found his thoughts briefly traveling back to the times he and Aiden spent together, protecting each other's back, guarding the lives of their teammates. It was hard to believe he had basically vanished off the grid.

"So what should I call you then honey? I'm trying to show some respect here. Trust me; I don't do that often, especially for perfect strangers like you, no disrespect intended. What's your story?" Mariko shot onto a dirt path, the vehicle easily making the transition from pavement to rocky, uneven asphalt. She had shiny purple goggles over both her eyes to protect them, even though only one of them was open. The breeze felt great against her bare shoulders, and if she wasn't trying to show a shred of decency, she would've discarded the rest of her torn top, and just enjoyed the ride against her naturally smooth skin.

"The name I go by is Trigger. I was given that name years ago by a man I used to consider somewhat of a father figure. I worked for SPECS back in the past, though we've gone our separate ways since then."

Mariko winced when she felt his hands around her waist. Her gut reaction was to elbow the shit out of him, but she realized that it was her fault for engaging the nitrous tanks she had stored on the underside of the vehicle. Trigger couldn't be blamed for having the common sense to invest in self preservation. The touch elicited a chemical response inside of her that she did not understand, but she could feel its effects. Strength and wisdom radiated from this man, and she felt strengthened when in his presence. Mariko would forever take note of the power in that simple brushing of skin. Such a strong internal reaction had never occurred with her before. Trigger also was a curiosity to her, and she didn't take interest in many people. The way he'd adapted to some of Vizuela's highest caliber technology was quite astounding. Even experienced weapons masters hadn't grasped the tech the way Trigger had, making it seem effortless and natural. She wanted to know more. "What happened?" Mariko asked rather childishly, eager to hear his next words.

"Are you taking me on a date in the future? I only kiss and tell if you want me to." Trigger laughed slyly, and Mariko found herself rejoicing with him. The quaking of her stomach felt so right at that moment, words slipped past her lips before she could stop them.

"Sure, why not? The city as we know it has gone to hell, but how about a nice hunt together? That is, if your team will allow it." Mariko glanced over her shoulder and could see clouds of brown dust in the distance, knowing that both Sterk and Joe were following them. They were headed to a location in the Nexus that only Vizuela's elite knew of, and even so, there were restrictions on accessing it. Pushing her proposed date far out of her mind, she attempted to change the subject from her mindless blabbering. "The Vizuela elite are granting Vici a temporary title. You are now all Vassals of the Order." Trigger raised his eyebrows, trying to remember what privileges that title granted them, but came up blank. Angela would probably know.

"Vassals of the Order huh, what exactly does a name like that entail?" Trigger was unaware that his rich, southern accent had come out of the blue. He was too busy trying to remember the humongous list of titles that one could obtain in Vizuela based on certain conditions. There was that and the fact that he was riding alongside an incredibly beautiful female on an ATV, an experience he had never had. There was something very sexy about this adventure, though he could mostly chalk it up to Vizuela business. Nevertheless, this mystery woman had more on the brain than Vizuela if she was asking him some of his personal business on their first outing together. It was funny, he hadn't even asked her name yet, but at the same time, felt that it was completely unnecessary at the time. _Was she already at that level with him? When was the last time he'd stepped back from vampire hunting and just relaxed for awhile?_ Thoughts of settling down put his mind in a pleasant place.

"Hey I don't come up with this shit okay?" Mariko laughed, finding the pleasure it invoked in her to be somewhat debilitating. She had to keep her guard up at all times, which wasn't easy when she was talking to this man like she'd known him all her life. Again, could she blame him for that? All he was doing was responding rather openly to her pointed questions at him, teasing her every now and again, which she definitely liked. _Was it a crime to pursue this crazy dance any further?_

The night sky made the starry heavens look like beaded jewels as they kept riding off the main roads for what seemed like forever. Trigger would have long thought that they had exited the perimeter of the Nexus, but it was an eye opening experience to discover the great expanse of the city. Electric lines didn't flow everywhere, and there were indeed places with flowering plants and tall, leafy trees. It was a surprise to him. Even the air smelled cleaner and less polluted. The beauty in the simplicity of things made him sigh with content. It reminded Trigger of his home in El Paso, Texas. He had lived there on a horse ranch for a few years before traveling to the Nexus on a business trip. It wasn't exactly the easiest thing in the world, finding a job after being discharged from SPECS, but he had managed quite well on his own, even at his age. Once he'd hit the Nexus and the full swing of the city hit him again, he was with Vici and nothing more. Being a mercenary that exclusively hunted vampires had doubled his income, and that's all that had mattered at the time. Now he was looking for something more. He would definitely have to visit Texas again soon.

"I asked what happened with you and SPECS cowboy. Why aren't you working for them now? They probably could have used you in the time before this city went to the dogs." Mariko forced calmness in her tone, for she didn't want to sound as interested in him as she actually was. She actually didn't mean to pay him a compliment with her statement, but once again, her lips decided to act naughty again. Whatever information she could get from him, she would appreciate, for aside from both being mercenaries for the same guild, there was definitely potential for a strong friendship between them, even she could recognize that. Usually, Mariko fancied herself a lone wolf, and with good reason. It was because of the hatefulness and underlying intentions of others that made her have to seal her eye shut the majority of the time, which wasn't a pleasant experience to adapt to. It had taken her three years of practice to even commandeer motor vehicles correctly.

"Well, aside from going against orders, my reckless personality and charming good looks, the reason I was discharged from service was for withholding information." The tires on the ATV suddenly got a whole lot more interesting than the sky or staring at Mariko's bare, cream colored back was. "I was in line to be the executive of the branch in this city, had already been pegged for the slot, but then the Vampire Human War of 2045 broke out, and hence, my discharge. Another man was chosen for the job, someone younger, a bit more inexperienced than me, but with a cooler head. Look at where that's got me today." It was a deeply troubling memory. Soon after his squad had followed Blade into the wilderness, they'd found that cabin, where a girl's body lay, unconscious and presumed dead. Blade had instructed the squad to move forward, and Trigger was the only one who really took in the entirety of the situation. Blade was a Daywalker, and he had bitten the woman, leaving fang holes on her neck. When they withdrew from the battlefield, having settled on a massive scale treaty with the vampires in the United States, Yuki Naga questioned him directly about Blade's motives, and he had remained reticent. Though he did not know Blade's reasoning for lying to his squadron, Trigger understood that there were things beyond comprehension that motivated people. Trigger could hardly remember his childhood, and couldn't even remember his own name. Not only that, but when he enlisted for SPECS and was given the nickname Trigger, it never came attached to a last name, meaning the nickname was all that he had. As he replayed the events in his head, he realized that he would have done nothing differently. He would not have sold Blade out for the Branch Executive position. Since joining Vici, post his disconnect with SPECS, it was ironic that he and Blade were now on opposite sides of the fence, despite their ultimate goals being one in the same. However, Vici stood for something more, and had given him much more than just a name. Vici gave him a family, and a place to put his reckless behavior to use without judgment or backlash. Panther wasn't the best leader in the world, but he was a damn good one that he was proud to serve under. Trigger believed that Aiden quitting the team had hit him harder than anyone else for just that reason. It was like losing a blood brother to him. Here they were now; gaining titles and status in Vizuela, and Aiden was not with them. It just didn't feel right.

That didn't help the surprise in finding out shortly after that another man was going to be promoted to his position. It was like being fired and then kicked square in the balls by having your next check revoked. That was SPECS for ya. Geez, his life had been nothing but kicks in the head.

"So you're telling me that before you were a vampire hunter and a mercenary, you were a cop? Somehow that doesn't seem to suit you Trigger. We're almost there by the way; don't go falling asleep on me now." Mariko pushed her back against him, shaking him from his visions of the past. The touch delighted her senses though, so she had a secondary motive.

"I was a soldier." Trigger corrected, feeling confidence enter his bones. "Where do you get off asking all these questions?" He asked, tickling her ribs. She almost flipped the ATV, her laughter high and boisterous. The vehicle revved up onto two wheels for two precious seconds of free fall, and then slammed back down on the dirt with a thump.

"You're going to fucking kill us!" She yelled, finally parking the ATV in a makeshift parking lot. There were three spaces there, perfectly sized for the all terrain vehicles. They dismounted the seat and waited, Trigger cracking a few more jokes that tickled her down to her bone marrow. It was amazing how good it felt to be around him.

"Whatcha reckon's so intrastin to tha bonnie lass?" Joe asked Sterk, who had been sulking the entire ride. He had wanted to drive an ATV of his own, but that bastard with the golden claws had insisted on being the one to drive his woman, and there was already little time for arguments. What made matters worse was that Mariko had run off with the largest vehicle, despite her frame being the thinnest of the three of them. This meant that he and Joe were squashed onto a small space, back to chest. It was as annoying as things could get.

"I don't care really. Did we use all the nitrous already? I'm tempted to walk the rest of the way."

Joe brushed off Sterk's obvious sarcasm, checking in the mirrors to be sure that the other members of Vici weren't deviating from the path. Interestingly enough, Panther's eyes had an eerie green glow in the dead of night, which put the smallest twinge of fear in his mind. Joe didn't fear anything.

There was a singular metal door that led straight underground near the parking lot for the ATVs, and that's where Joe led the group once everyone got situated. In the meantime, Sterk caught Angela and Keith up to speed on their team's new titling.

"We couldn't save seven teams from the wrath of Alivatesh, but you should be proud to know that in our counterattack, the blood price has been paid. We've taken seven of their teams off the map and into the next life. Do not follow their course. Vici is one of the only teams from Vizuela left in the Nexus. That should be plenty of encouragement for you to continue fighting your hardest." Sterk brushed invisible lint off his shoulder, and then headed down into the underground bunker by way of ladder. The descent took five minutes, and that was going as fast as humanly possible.

"Vici, we welcome you to Vizuela's secrets. Welcome, Vassals of the Order." Joe presented, standing aside so their eyes could take in the view.

Musou mode was a given. The crowds' screams meant nothing to her. As Aisha walked to the center of the arena, one droplet of blood from her forehead split into three rivers, two ending at the corner of her eyes, the last etching a red line down the middle of her face to her mouth. She looked like an Indian chief, face covered with red war paint. As much as she wanted to hate Kendra right now, killing her was much more important, so she had to disconnect herself from the animosity she felt towards Kendra. The announcer started ticking off the rules for the final match, whose outcome would ultimately be decided by the VIP council of three. If either of them killed each other without the three's consent, immediate death would follow. Aisha's weapons essentially remained the same from the first day she'd entered the tournament, except now, she was blessed with the highest quality of arms available. Her newest shield and her Swiss knife had both taken three days of intricate metalworking man-hours to fashion, and their value was unparalleled. Opposite her, Kendra wore a sneer on her face, the two handed morning star her only choice of armament. As Aisha listened to the crowds' cheers, she surmised that the crowd favored Kendra, but ever so slightly.

"If the fighters to my left and right are ready, let us begin the finale of the 83rd Annual Gladiatrix Competition!" The crowd's cries were deafening, even though she and Kendra spent two minutes in silence, sizing each other up. The crowd's shrieks were for blood, but it was painfully obvious that regardless, with the stakes so high, and the potential to become filthy rich at an all time peak, every move they made would be weighed in, and had a dramatic effect on their many spectators.

They didn't talk to each other at all, they just fought. Aisha started by launching her shield like a gigantic discus, but Kendra knocked it straight to the ground, with a powerful, vertical attack. Using her attack as a distraction, Aisha crossed the distance between them, curving the knife around the morning star at Kendra's side. Before the weapon could break skin, Kendra's heavy left hand caught her wrist, almost breaking it with the grip alone. Before Aisha could react, Kendra's knee was slamming her face, throwing her off her feet and into the dirt. While she maintained her hold on the knife, Aisha's shield was now well out of reach. Kendra decided to use it for her own purposes, even more pleased with the ugly mark she'd left on the side of Aisha's face.

Aisha's mind cycled through her available options, but having things put into perspective really reminded her of the dangerous predicament she was now in. With her having a weapon as tiny as a dagger, Kendra, now in possession of her marvelous shield, had a supreme amount of body coverage and the general advantage in the bout. Even with clever manipulation, it would be almost impossible for Aisha to strike Kendra's vitals dealing heavy enough melee damage to incapacitate her. She reevaluated the situation and found something much more suitable to her morale, Kendra's morning star. The great weapon was as heavy as it was powerful, and with a shield occupying one of Kendra's hands, using the weapon at its maximum capabilities was also impossible. The situation had gone from a disadvantage to an impasse. Aisha could work with that.

Kendra watched Aisha spit blood and then stand to her feet, a generous rush of audacity filling her brain when she watched Aisha realize her obvious disadvantage. She took pride in that for a few moments longer, before resuming her attack. Instead of holding the shield in her hand, she used the tight, leather straps to affix it to her bicep, protecting her other arm from damage. She too had a huge pauldron, just like Aisha, and wasn't worried about losing her arm to a weapon as puny as Aisha's anyway. With both of her hands now free, Kendra let out a yell, crashing the weapon down on Aisha, cursing when the arena sands weren't covered in her foe's blood.

Aisha's foot shot out, a long, ripping cut a fair price to pay for the powerful sweep she landed on Kendra. Now on the ground, Kendra was easy prey for Aisha's knife. Aisha leaped, landing her full weight on the gladiator, her adrenaline skyrocketing. She had to be careful, because tipping her emotions would have ended musou, and would have a severe negative consequence attached to it that she didn't want to think about at the moment. Aisha forced the long handle of the morning star into Kendra's neck, choking her, holding the tiny blade firmly in her teeth. Kendra struggled madly to throw Aisha's weight off her, but didn't succeed. Aisha was firmly clamped around her, and refused to budge. Kendra could hardly move her trapped legs, and put most of her focus on stopping asphyxiation and total paralysis. Aisha was no slacker in the strength department, despite what bullshit inside information Minerva had been feeding her. She watched in horror as Aisha adjusted the knife with her tongue, so that the point was directly aimed at her face, and then Aisha stabbed at her.

The reward of blood was a nice touch, even though it appeared as a murky black in her vision. Aisha stabbed again by quickly nodding her head, disappointed that she'd missed the jugular vein on her first try, instead, nicking Kendra's cheek. Kendra twisted her weapon, making Aisha move her hands, and then launched her away with a sharp kick, boots digging deep into Aisha's bare belly before blasting her into the air.

Aisha arched her back and sailed through the sky, landing on one of the arena's walls like a spider. By transferring her chi into her shoes, she rebounded off the wall, safely landing on the ground. She licked her lips with satisfaction, noting Kendra's bleeding neck. Apparently, the small wound that had grazed Kendra's cheek was longer than she originally could see. It would be a major show of weakness for Kendra to attempt to patch the wound, so Aisha knew that she wouldn't touch it. Kendra charged at her with the morning star, losing more blood, but instead of swinging the weapon at her, she slammed it into the ground, vaulting off it into a flying kick, that caused Aisha's body to hit the outer wall again.

The crowd was stoked by this, standing out of their seats to watch the sudden turn of events. Aisha had dropped the dirk with the impact, and taking advantage of this, Kendra used bare fists to batter quite a few areas on her body. Aisha could feel the difference in chi-infused punches and non infused punches, but still, her brain informed her of each and every injury. When Aisha attempted counters, Kendra's brute force knocked them away, leaving her wide open to new, shattering blows which rained upon her. She could feel consciousness slipping away the longer she held onto musou mode, which had nasty side effects if not maintained properly. There were only a few last resorts left.

Kendra pinned Aisha to the wall, cutting off her arm movement by using wrist control. To discourage her from kicking, Kendra used her thick pauldron to smash into Aisha's chest repeatedly, forcing Aisha to take large, pain filled breaths. She was about to glance up at the three overseers when Aisha's forehead rammed into hers, making her cry out. Aisha dropped to the ground, scampering between Kendra's legs like a rat. No sooner than she reached her blade, she embedded it into Kendra's calf muscle, wrenching it out as hard as she could. Kendra dropped to her knees, and Aisha lunged again, the knife making two more holes right in Kendra's shoulder blades. The knife in one hand, a fistful of hair in the other, Aisha swung Kendra's body like a ragdoll, catapulting it just a few yards away from the center of the arena. Kendra could not move. Aisha raised the morning star into the sky, and pulverized Kendra's left leg from the knee down, bones eager to snap. When Aisha lifted the weapon again, the remains of Kendra's leg were a twisted mess of bone and gore. Aisha let out a primal roar, smoothly bringing herself out of musou mode, greeted with the brightness of color and the deafening cries of the screaming spectators.

"Masters! Does she live, or does she die?" Aisha yelled up at the boxes, waiting for the royal vampires to speak. Blood was rushing everywhere, both in her body and on the ground. An excitement unlike any she had felt in a long time filled her, with each breath she took. She found Lucia's eyes and locked onto them, even though it was Minerva who spoke before the other two.

"Perit." Kendra's eyes still worked, and when she saw and heard Minerva's declaration, it was as if someone had stomped on her stomach. Not only was there a look of surprise on her face, but also an intense hatred, like working all your life and having your 401 k liquidated for no reason at all. The crowd jumped out of their seats as one body at Minerva's call, jeering for blood with a renewed vitality.

"Vivit." The word came from Impresia, which meant that Kendra's fate was in Lucia's hands. The crowd spat insults at Impresia for awhile, before realizing that simple fact. An unbelievable silence crossed the entire coliseum as everyone waited on Lucia's word. With over 50,000 spectators, the complete silence was a wonder in itself.

Lucia stood to her feet, Aisha noticing Kaiser's immediate absence. "My word is law, and I declare Vivit!" The crowd angrily attacked Lucia with the worst words they could muster. Aisha let the morning star drop to the ground a centimeter away from Kendra's head. With an ugly look plastered across her face, she spat a good amount of mucous straight on Kendra's face, walking away as the stretchers came out to pull Kendra together. The announcer's voice was the next one they heard.

Aisha could hardly remember the events that followed. Her hand was raised into the air, a ring slipped on her finger, and millions of dollars changed hands, leaving some with broke backs and others with fat stacks. The next thing she knew, Lucia was leading her away from the coliseum after the fastest outfit change in history.

"Wait in the car Aisha, I'll be right back. We have an awards ceremony to attend, and I already have a seamstress working on your formal Japanese wear, inspired by your mother's ninja clan. Believe me, as soon as the ceremony ends, you'll have honored your true clan, and learned all you want to know about your mother Akane." Lucia didn't give Aisha a chance to respond before shutting her inside of the luxurious limousine. There were several things that required her immediate attention, forcing her to act with the utmost sense of urgency.

"It would seem as if the better woman prevailed after all, Minerva. I'm surprised you, of all people would vote for your prize fighter to die in the end." Lucia laughed, walking alongside Minerva as cameras flashed all around them. They both raised their heads occasionally to smile and wave, though the entire thing was an act for the press. Reporters were trampling each other to ask babbling questions, and there was hardly enough space in the hall to accompany them all. Somehow, they made it work. Vampires had a way of doing that.

"It shouldn't come as a surprise to you my dear; didn't Shura tell you that I often discard things that I have no use for? I'm not a junk collector, no matter how much you seem to love discarded trash." Lucia bit back a heated response as they entered the arena's private kitchen, where there were nice, golden goblets of blood prepared especially for them. Since Lucia had made sure to occupy Impresia with well-known members of the business press, the timing would be absolutely perfect. They were alone. Paparazzi had no choice but to wait outside of the kitchen, or be executed on the spot. This gave them a sweet refuge away from the political insects, and a moment to enjoy each other's company, if they'd allow.

"Where is she now, the infirmary? Perhaps you're giving up a little more than a used toy. She cost you over 200 million, are you sure you're happy she's alive?" Minerva's chuckle in response was so loud that she knocked a few of the parfait cakes from the table onto the floor. Lucia thought about bending down to retrieve them, but immediately decided against it. Her hands were behind her back, and the moment Minerva caught her breath and went for the splattered mess, Lucia's nails were popping a cork, emptying half a vial of Vladimir Drovsky's blood into Minerva's goblet. She never noticed.

"You know, never in my lifetime have I had to stoop down to cleanup a mess I've made, you should be blessed upon seeing such a rare sight. Some might call it a miracle." Minerva ignored Lucia's previous questions completely. When their eyes locked again, Lucia got all the information she needed. It was true for this time as well; Minerva would not have to clean up her mess, for Lucia would be the first one to do it.

"I would much rather perform miracles than observe them like a dumbstruck fool. To money, power, and ownership of this world." Lucia raised a toast, to which Minerva agreed with a fanged smile clear as day.

"It's over now, so is our quarrel." Minerva began, wiping her mouth of the delicious blood. "I hope you take no offense to the assassination attempts, it's all fun and games until the winner emerges. I have no qualms with you."

"Likewise." Lucia replied, drinking another large sip. With that, she excused herself, taking a brisk walk down to the infirmary. With a look, she evacuated the cramped quarters, entering alone. Minerva did not need to know that once Blade ended Vladimir, she and all of her assets would be liquidated. It was the price she paid for making an attempt on Lucia Noblesse's life.

"Minerva, is that you? Why the fuck would you vote perit huh? I did my best, I tried to kill her, but that information you gave me was absolute shit! How could we take this thing when you don't even provide me with accurate info? Please, show some semblance of mercy, it will never happen again." Kendra's voice choked out from behind a transparent white curtain. Lucia silently slid the curtain aside, just long enough for Kendra's face to erupt into surprise, before tearing a doctor's scalpel across her jugular, planting the tool deep within her chest. Lucia knew her body was going to bleed out first, and then turn into smoldering ashes, but she didn't stick around for that. Kendra was gone, and that's all that really mattered. She would never compete again.

"Took ya fucking long enough." Aisha complained, though she was smiling ear to ear. A nice warm shower and special body ointment provided by Lucia had her smelling like fresh flowers on a breezy day, and with her victory broadcasted throughout the entire vampire community, she knew that both her mother and Blade had to know she'd come out on top. They had to.

The awards ceremony was much like the last formal meeting, Aisha having to again deal with her House of Noblesse titling, and listen to people blather on about the tournament's history and past champions. Aisha thought it was neat that she had two statues made in her likeness surrounding the grand podium, on an elevated stage that took seven steps to climb. She was so taken in by the marvelous beauty that mirrored her current outfit that she hadn't expected to be called upon to give a final remarks speech. Video cameras and excessive lighting made her dizzy and nauseous. She hadn't had a clue what she would say. As she stepped to the podium, apparently, that was evident, for the previous speaker, a gentleman in his thirties with a nice double breasted suit, whispered in her ear to trust her ring, and speak from within. She thought he was a nutcase, but as she glanced down at the fat crest upon her finger, a blood red jewel cut to perfection with a golden insignia depicting Vladimir on it, she felt the power weave its way into her bones, filling her with confidence. Words came to her easily.

"Your mother would be so proud Aisha, I'm sure of it!" For once, Lucia was driving Aisha, though the destination was nothing more than a local coffee shop. Aisha hadn't been there in months, but it would be close enough to Blade without giving away his location. With the doom and gloom overshadowing the majority of the city, even Lucia couldn't be trusted with sensitive information like that. Let her exhaust her resources if she felt like searching, she already did a pretty good job of keeping her isolated from her friends for the longest of times. Aisha beamed at Lucia's comment, before realizing her usage of past tense.

"My mom isn't dead Lucia." Aisha's voice was deadpan. Lucia looked at her expression through the rearview mirror, intrigued by the dark energy that suddenly swirled around the young vampire. She had indeed touched a very sensitive nerve.

"I suppose now would be a good a time as any to tell you about her." Lucia started, slowing down to a crawling speed. Aisha could imagine car after car passing Lucia's turtle pace, but the streets were absolutely empty. Driving would have been absolutely foolish for a human, with the raging vampires everywhere. Lucia seemed to know her way through the dark like the back of her hand, and the ride was completely smooth, even if all of it wasn't exactly on the roadway.

"Go on." Aisha prompted, though she couldn't completely trust Lucia. Despite everything that had happened so far, Aisha knew without a shadow of a doubt that her mother was alive. No one could tell her otherwise.

"You are certainly right my child."

A chill ran all the way down Aisha's spine, and she craned her neck to see if anyone was nearby. There was no one, the exception being Lucia in the driver's seat. Aisha skimmed the surface of her thoughts, but could find nothing. It was one thing to impersonate a person in body, but there was no way Lucia could pull off such a perfect rendition of her mother's soothing voice. That meant Akane was alive, somewhere, using her mental abilities to communicate with her telepathically. Her mother was stronger than Aisha thought to possess such prowess. At first, Aisha was afraid, but now, the voice provided her with the utmost comfort, and as she blew out a sigh, Aisha felt her mother's praises rain down on her. Aisha was proud of herself as well.

"Akane was a cunning woman that could seduce anyone with eyes to see, human or vampire. When our paths crossed, some 87 years ago, she told me about a weapon she would pass down to her daughter. I, at first was completely skeptical, wondering how in the hell she planned on having a child, especially since she had been a virgin when she was turned, but Akane found a way. She was resourceful like that." Lucia watched emotions war on Aisha's face, but she didn't say anything. "I didn't work with her for long, for she dabbled in black arts and shamanism, while I was more concerned with psychological manipulation. Needless to say, we picked up a bit from each other. You've heard me speak of Akane's mind reading capabilities. By now, they are fully developed and mastered. She worked much harder than I, but ended up getting expelled from several universities in Japan for the nature of her practices. When I relocated to the states, I offered Akane a research facility, but she declined me, saying that the natural energy of Japan was much more beneficial to her work than being in the capitalist country of the world." Lucia closed her lips, knowing that Aisha would be content with just that. Even though the conversation had been short, it was a lot to take in.

"She lies. Lucia tried to buy my arts and sell their secret for profit. She would sooner have me devote my life to research as she would pick flowers in the morning sun." Akane's voice was snide.

"What's the sword's name?" Aisha asked, nervously nibbling her fingernails. Lucia hit a few bumps, and based on their surroundings, Aisha knew they were getting close to her destination.

"She called it Makugane, a name composed of characters from other legendary Japanese weapons. I'm sure you know of it right?"

Aisha dug her claws into Lucia's headrest. "Where is it?" Lucia smiled and gave her the tiniest details about the blade, including the height of the cliff that the weapon was positioned on. Aisha retrieved her katana from the trunk, this time giving it a thorough examination. This wasn't her sword at all! What did Blade need her katana for, and did he really trust her to the extent of wielding his awesome weapon without his supervision?

"I'll wire you the money tomorrow; I'm going to need a bank outside of the city." Lucia informed her, before speeding away. Aisha didn't hear her mother's voice in her head any longer after that.

"Can a girl cry in peace? Goddamn it!" Tiffany swore. She was hunched over Onyx, her hands firmly gripping his, tears streaming down her face. There were around sixteen pairs of eyes on her, not including Blade's.

"You would think that one would have more respect for Onyx's caretakers, given his condition. In fact, if it were not for Blade's word, you wouldn't even be allowed on these grounds, vampire." Jonah's voice was strong, though a little high for a man as stocky as he. He wore long tan suspenders and a face plastered with a perpetual smirk.

"Fuck you old man. I'm here because I need to be, believe that." Tiffany snapped, returning her loving gaze to Onyx, whose eyes were still closed. He looked bad. Onyx's entire chest was bound with medical gauze, his right arm temporarily in a sling. His face was pale for a black man, and his breaths were shallow. Blade could see genuine concern in Tiffany's eyes for him, but still knew the attraction was ill-fated, and not because of the fact that she would never be able to change him. One of these days, Tiffany would slip up royally, and then she would cease to exist, Blade would see to it personally.

"So this is a full recovery huh?" Blade remarked to Daniel Van Helsing, who nodded resolutely.

"We still have to be sure his heart is beating on track, and as of yet, he hasn't been able to stay conscious for longer than four hours, but there are no other side effects. He can still withstand daylight as well." Daniel added, just in case. The answer wasn't enough to pacify the Daywalker.

"It sure as hell doesn't sound like a full recovery to me. I understand you're limited in resources, but isn't there anything we can do to expedite this? The longer I wait to kick Vladimir's ass, the more damage control we all have to contend with, and I'm tired of my shit getting hijacked by some eyeless muthafuckas without souls." Daniel was about to respond, when a doorbell chimed a melodic church hymn. Six of the Van Helsing brothers instantly left the room. Blade thought there was going to be trouble, but a few minutes later, Aisha entered the room decked in ceremonial robes befitting a ninja. She had just answered one of Gabriel's riddles, and the old man was laughing merrily as he scooted along in his wheelchair, glasses held carefully in his wrinkled hands.

"Can I speak to you in private Blade?" Aisha inquired, receiving a few less than moral grins from many of the Van Helsings. She turned her nose up at them, and ignored Tiffany's brief scowl as she spotted Aisha from across the room. Blade nodded his assent, leading Aisha away from the hospital wing, and into the living quarters. Here, the Van Helsings had gone for a contemporary look overshadowed by plenty of green and silver colors. Aisha had to admit, the person in charge of interior decoration did a kickass job.

"What did you find out?" These were the first words to come out of Blade's mouth, which slightly disappointed her.

"I have his ring here. The family crest, and the ring are both authentic, I guarantee it." Aisha slid the piece of jewelry off her middle finger, though it gave her an annoying amount of resistance once it hit her knuckle, as if it did not want to be removed. She took care not to mention Vladimir's name, in case the others were subtly eavesdropping on their conversation. Blade gazed at the ring in Aisha's outstretched palm, having flashbacks to the distant past. When he opened his eyes, he was down on his knees, telling her to keep the ring. His stomach churned, and he vomited right then and there, heaving up his insides with several uncomfortable looking lurches. Green and black bile stained the carpet, but Aisha was not worried about that. Blade had broken out in a sweat, and could not get off of his hands and knees. His body was trembling.

"I'm sorry Aisha, I just need to…" Blade hurled again, but nothing came up. It felt like his veins were trying to escape his encasing skin, and his ribs felt like they were bruised, his heart banging into them at two hundred miles per hour. Something within him was struggling for supremacy, but Blade wasn't even trying to fight it. For some reason, whatever it was had no choice but to stay just beneath the surface of his body. He had no control over what was going to happen with it; he had to leave that to fate.

"Feed." Aisha finished for him, using her right thumbnail to make a small incision in the small of her left arm above the inside of her elbow. The blood pooled there, but even with the enticing smell inches away from Blade's nose, he refused her.

"I cannot Aisha. There must be another way."

"You're not going to kill anyone, all of the hospitals in the Nexus have been razed to the fucking ground, and there are no animals here to hunt! Drink Blade! Am I not good enough for you?" Aisha thrust her wrist in his face again. She was getting angry quick, but tried to simmer down and reason with him. "Listen, we both know that I won't turn into a Daywalker unless you administer the bite to my neck with that intent. I am only here feeding you, I will not let myself die, believe me." Aisha was pleading with him to accept her blood. Blade's refusal hurt her much more than the prospect of cutting herself for his survival.

"The serum. We need to make another serum." Blade's voice was weak. He could hear it echo around him oddly enough, but didn't have the strength to repeat himself again.

Aisha slapped the shit out of him. He went from on all fours to crashing down on his side. There were tears of pity in her eyes as she lowered her wrist to his lips. He finally drank. She had got to him at last.

The world around her stopped, and completely vanished behind her fluttering lids. The sensation felt wonderful. Pleasure burned its way through her system with warmth that spread from her fingertips down into her toes. Even as she felt his grip strengthen, his fingers now clutching at her arm, the experience had her enraptured. Colors danced in and out of her vision and moan after moan came from between her lips. She couldn't stop them, no matter how hard she tried. Her fingers began sliding along the edges of the custom made Japanese attire Lucia's tailor crafted for her. Aisha was hot; it was too hot in the room for anything. It was too hot for clothes. Aisha's chest tightened, her breasts swelling at his scent, reacting intensely to Blade's hunger. Involuntarily, her entire back arched, as if begging him to take her. _How was she supposed to stop him now, when it felt this mind-blowingly good?_ There was no way.

Blade inhaled rushed sips of air through his nose. This only served to remind him how delicious Aisha smelled, and how beautiful she looked kneeling before him, the complete right side of her torso bare and aching for him. Blade's rapidly changing eyes slid over her skin, delighting in the sight of her naked flesh. When she opened her eyes finding his transfixed on hers, the sight alone made Aisha cry out, her body moving closer to him on its own. She wanted more, he could sense it, and were it not for the life energy that he was siphoning from her through her blood, he would have given it to her.

Blade felt strength beyond measure heal his insides. An annoying itch of rustling wings moved against his shoulder blades, begging to burst from beneath his skin. At first, it was hardly noticeable, but when it got to be too much, Blade pulled himself away from Aisha's arm, wiping his mouth rather sloppily with his sleeve. The bloodlust he had felt for weeks now completely vanished, leaving Blade feeling completely revitalized and energetic. In a last, erotic show, Blade licked over the wound on her arm, sealing it together with his saliva. She wrapped her arms around his back in a tight embrace, consumed by the overwhelming need for intercourse. Despite having been dazed moments before, she was now pressing herself on top of him, having knocked him onto his back with the force of her desire.

"Not now." Blade seductively crooned, placing a fingertip at Aisha's luscious lips. She tried to nip at it with her fangs, but Blade moved, evading her. She didn't mind though, for instead of biting him in return, she began a long, slow sucking starting with the base of his index.

"Please." Aisha begged with a breathy whisper. Her tight embrace turned into a softer cradling, with her fingers gliding along any exposed skin she could find. She bowed her head with reverence, but was not embarrassed at all. "I need it." She added, running her nose along the length of his neck, a heavy blush on her cheeks. She knew baring fangs while there was enough to get her ashed, so she didn't go any further than that.

"We have more pressing concerns Aisha. Did you learn anything else from Lucia? We're due to depart for New Amaurot in a few days, for the Van Helsings have been gracious enough to provide a jet in all of this chaos."

Aisha pouted, sitting back a safe distance from him. It was back to business already, the rush was over. She had a heady excitement that still made her body ultra sensitive to its surroundings, but her erotic high was slowly mellowing out. Aisha knew how to make it last a little bit longer, but there was no way she was about to masturbate, not with over five feet of sexy sitting directly in front of her. She couldn't believe how powerful his presence alone was, for she had always only known him as a strong warrior in his own right. Aisha never once dreamed that Blade could be that passionate a lover as well. "I'll need two days for myself before we depart. Part of what I learned about my mother involves my inheritance, and I must claim it right away. It will aid us greatly in the battle to come."

Blade nodded his head, helping Aisha stand to her feet. The woman was so flustered that she hadn't fixed her top at all. Being the honorable gentleman that he was, Blade helped her put it back on correctly, earning her verbal gratitude and a kiss on the cheek. "Take the time you need Aisha, don't rush something so important. Either way, we will be leaving here in a few days, so be back before then." He placed his hands on her shoulders waiting for her to lift her chin to speak. "I know I don't say this often enough, but you are very valuable to me. There are no words to describe the gratitude I feel for you placing your life on the line for me, numerous times. I am honored to be your companion." Blade let his knuckle run the course of Aisha's cheek once, and then he returned to Onyx, knowing that she was going to cry. Because of her, he was recovered, and he needed the same expediency in Onyx's treatment so that when they left the Nexus, his team was in top shape.

Aisha was prepared to leave for Makugane's location, when seeing Lucia's face on a television set stopped her. Somehow, the royal vampire had been slated for a press conference and an interview all in one day, and the titling at the foot of the screen read _Lucia Noblesse: Doubling her Net Worth in only one day. _Aisha scoffed, shaking her head. Much the same was on the title of a new published copy of Lucia's book, which she held up for all to see. Aisha couldn't stand to watch it much longer. She was right at the door when she noticed a long package in a brown UPS box addressed to her in front of it.

"Blade brought those in yesterday. I see you're leaving already, looks like we'll have to postpone that history lesson."

Aisha turned around to see her favorite Van Helsing, Noah, standing in the hallway approaching her. He looked as harmless as ever while talking to her in that easygoing style of his, even though he openly wore a Beretta with a full clip of holy rounds that would eviscerate her.

"I've gotta take a rain check on that." Aisha admitted, thoroughly inspecting her katanas for signs of tampering. She didn't have to though, because Blade made sure to keep them in pristine condition, bless his heart. Upon her entry, she'd given up Blade's sword to Gabriel to prove her identity, along with answering his crazy riddles.

"Try to keep things behind closed doors next time okay? You and Blade's _conversation _made Tiffany drop fang near Onyx, and we had to restrain her because of it. Just keep it quieter huh? I know we're all mostly celibate fossils here, but this is a hospital you know."

Aisha's face was bright red. She nodded her agreement and then flew out the door, knowing that there were only a few more hours of darkness left to hide her. Jumping through shadows was the fastest way to travel, but it would be far more difficult to operate under the blazing sun. Even though there were more shadows, her bloodlust would skyrocket, and she didn't have the time to hunt to sate it. She had to get to Virginia Beach as fast as possible. According to Lucia, Makugane was protruding out of the ground on a remote cliff top on an island not too far away from the beach, surrounded on all sides by the roaring waters of the Atlantic Ocean. That was her destination.

"The airfield is destroyed Anubis, awaiting orders." Jeremiah, one of Anubis's three lieutenants relayed. His bow was low and humble, but his piercing blue eyes were ready for orders. Anubis didn't regret tearing out this one's throat. His lieutenants had to maintain their mental capacities, so for the time being, Anubis had turned them all into vampires rather than soulless beings without thoughts of their own.

"Further fortify our outer perimeter, and leave not a trace evidence at SPECS headquarters. I want nothing to be left unchecked. Nothing!" Anubis's command had the man scurrying away to fulfill it. Meanwhile, Anubis was conversing mentally with both Tiffany and Vladimir.

"The city is down, Blade should be leaving soon. I've already compromised a multitude of his hideouts, and SPECS has no more escape options or battle mechs to fight us with. We are ready for the next phase."

"Good, Anubis." Vladimir responded. "Once you see their aircraft leaving, unleash the soulless upon the rest of the United States. The White House is too scared to launch a direct attack on us at this time, and Yuki doesn't even know that he's done too well a job on keeping the city's situation under wraps and away from media coverage. They will soon know terror, the lot of them, and Blade will be exactly where I want him. I must commend you Tiffany. You've done well in relaying Blade's plans to me. Do not worry, the sword I know is not in his possession, so by rote, Blade shouldn't even be able to make it to my throne. All will be in place though. Continue monitoring his efforts, and you will be greatly rewarded." Vladimir's promise was like a block of pure gold.

"Thank you Vladimir, all is for your good." Tiffany mentally whispered back. Anubis paced the room waiting. The skies were clear so far, and there were hardly any humans left to turn. If Blade didn't leave the Nexus within the next few days, he may have to launch a preemptive strike on the surrounding states to satisfy the stomachs of the soulless. For now though, there was nothing else he could do except destroy what little remained in the city. Vladimir's word was absolute.

Aisha didn't remember discarding her shoes, but the natural breeze carried the distinct scent of the sea to her nose. She was hundreds of feet in the air, and the ledge was much narrower in person than in her dreams, but just the same, there it was. Makugane sheathed almost to the halfway point on the blade in a deep, concrete-like rock, its beautiful nylon covered handle begging for her to wield it. The weapon radiated waves of chi that instantly resonated with her, drawing her nearer. She was ready, this was no dream. _Had Akane really left a weapon so precious in her care? _She was already eternally grateful.

Aisha began her approach to the weapon carefully, her arms outstretched inside of giant sleeves for balance. The wind was dangerously strong, causing her sleeves to billow to and fro in the mighty gusts as if an external force was trying to hinder her progress. She teetered several times, perilously close to falling to her doom, but nevertheless, she was able to reach the sword. The black katana did not reflect sunlight at all, but captured her reflection flawlessly. There was a low buzzing around her as she stood on the small concrete platform for at least five minutes, simply admiring the beauty of its design. When Aisha reached for the handle, an unfortunately familiar burning sensation entered her body, making her scream. The cut on the back of her thigh reopened, a painful crippling sensation dropping her to her knees, drawing blood there as well. Were it not for the small, perfectly square platform at the cliff's edge that Makugane was sheathed in, she would've easily fallen to her death in the dangerous, crystalline waters below. Aisha felt the same sense of weakness make her limbs heavy, just like in her dream. _Why? Why wasn't she strong enough to even touch it? Why would her mother leave her an unattainable cursed sword?_

"So it is in dreams, so it is in reality." The blade spoke, answering her silent question. "My warning remains the same. You will not be able to wield me, a blade enchanted with both black magic and dark energy, until the generational curse has passed onto you. Your kendo prowess speaks for itself, but until you have a reason for using me in battle beyond sheer attacking strength, I will not move from this spot. Remember this well if you are to pass me on to your children."

Aisha screwed her face up again, trying to understand what Makugane meant by her children, and then passed out, forgetting everything else.

"Let's get this thing off the ground while we still have daylight!" Gabriel shouted, accelerating the plane to takeoff speed. Surprisingly enough, there was no interference whatsoever as the jet soared into the clouds from the same ravaged airfield that used to contain SPECS emergency vehicles. Things were going quite smoothly…so far.

Aisha made it her business to become interested in everything outside of the plane, from the ground thousands of feet below to the wavy wisps of clouds that surrounded them. She didn't feel like talking to anyone. Behind her Band-Aids, the wounds on the back of her thigh and both her knees throbbed, a stinging reminder of her weakness. Try as she might, Aisha could not decipher Makugane's cryptic riddles. _Was her mother supposed to curse her somehow? How was she, a vampire, going to have children? What other reason could she have to wield one of the greatest katanas on the planet besides attacking strength? _No answers came to mind as the flight droned on and on. They had several hours left to travel, and she wasn't even sure she was ready to oppose Vladimir's greatness.

Blade made sure that the valuable legendary items were all in one piece and locked up securely. He did this check once every hour, before returning to his seat. As he looked around the plane for something to kill time, his vampire side reacted to Aisha's sadness. He could tell that something was eating her down to the core, but he knew better than to ask about it. He glanced at Onyx, who looked rather chipper as he watched the Tom and Jerry DVD that played on monitors set up above every other seat. Blade let out a sigh and put his head in his hands. They weren't ready for something like this.


	17. Chapter 16: Looking for Work

Ch. 16

"Man do we gotta keep slaying these fuckers? I thought we were after the Alivatesh assassins, blood for blood, and body for body. Killin' these soulless mofos seems like slaughter without a reason. Pretty soon it'll be weighing on my conscience." Panther pulled his golden claws from their sheath in a blood-spurting vampire's neck. Not only was its blood bright scarlet in color, the creature screamed with its last breath, sounding eerily human. That was the worst thing about them. No matter how twisted their mouths, or how blackened their crater eyes were, they still managed to appear completely human, yet the only sounds they were capable of making were ear splitting screams.

"Don't be such a bitch." Nearby, Sterk was annihilating evil entities left and right with his humongous claymore, barely breaking a sweat in the process. Sterk's wild swings were rash to the naked eye, hiding the slick, destructive techniques evident in each of his motions. His normally stylish, albeit religiously inspired clothing was covered in foul fumes left behind by countless entrails being torn from bodies. While black was Sterk's primary color preference, today he wore dull green military fatigues fitted with silver stars and religious symbols. Sterk paused for a moment to flash Panther a snarky grin. "I seem to recall your fighting spirit mirroring mine when you were pursuing Markus, killing these bastards without a second thought. Are you going soft now? Don't tell me you're ready to tuck tail and run again?" Sterk planted his tawny boot into some ribs, leaving Panther plenty of time to dismember their foe safely. Despite the horror stories he'd heard about this class-S merc, perhaps Panther was wrong to judge him so harshly. Skill was most assuredly there. Even so, that didn't make Sterk any less of an asshole.

"We'll see who's tucking tail when the real action arrives." Panther jabbed back, following a trail literally cut open by both Angela and Mariko. The ladies seemed quite competitive since Vici's inception as Vassals of the Order, and having access to more arms than imaginable was no less gratifying than seeing them hunt together. Panther knew that each of his teammates felt like kids with flaming pockets inside of a candy store, and alongside some of the best bounty hunters in the state, they couldn't help but feel right at home. What better way to make a name for yourself?

"Thaur two oan th' left enterin' th' benk!" Joe roared, unaware of his raging Scottish accent slipping from between his lips. A shotgun blast maimed the slower of the assassins, making the cloaked figure tumble to the ground clutching a bloody stump. His partner easily left him behind, without looking back. Within the minute, Mariko pounced on the injured assailant, tearing his throat open with her claws without even having to verify Alivatesh's ugly green insignia on the breast of the cloak. Trigger shot past her into the building, and several blasts later, was exiting the edifice dragging a corpse behind him.

"Cheeky bastards dinno when tae quit." Joe spat, stomping down on the two foes. Their lifeless forms caved in regretfully at his weight, making sick, crunching rumbles.

"Shall we leave a flag as bait?" Angela piped up, much too full of both smiles and adrenaline. Silence passed trhough the six of them for only a few seconds before a unanimous decision was made.

"Sure think rookie," Sterk obliged, extracting a pocket sized stake from his jeans. He crushed the pike through the center of the intersecting corpses, and the pole expanded dozens of feet into the air, until it was higher than the bank itself. Then, a radiant, ruby red flag caught the wind, flapping insanely fast. To citizens, it would be nothing more than a poorly placed flagpole gruesomely positioned atop two bodies. To mercenaries of Alivatesh, it was a marker of death, showcasing their fallen comrades to the world.

"I guess we wait now," Mariko sighed, flipping her voluminous purple hair. There wasn't a murmur after that, just a murderous quiet.

Akane leered at the humongous werewolf prowling around the entrance to her throne room. The caged beast was less than energetic lately, and she hadn't fed it in a few days. She uncrossed her legs, and there was a brief moment when the animals eyes locked onto hers. The wolf bared its fangs halfheartedly, before resuming a lazy stroll around the perimeter of the cage. She didn't know how Vladimir had done it, but the boy hadn't transformed back into his human self since his capture, which amused her in the highest.

"You see my daughter, mutt? She simply isn't strong enough for her inheritance yet. Makugane can adjust its chi flow all it wants, but since it is a cursed sword of the greatest caliber, there's no way she can wield it just yet, regardless of her current prowess." On cue, the wolf arched its head to a plasma screen mounted high on the stone walls, where Aisha tried, and failed to pull a sword from stone. It was twisted how much like a movie this reality was, and even though the girl meant nothing to Kryzon, seeing her writhe in agony as a deep scar reopened made his empty stomach churn. He hated vampires, just like the rest of his kind, but he also couldn't bear to watch a human suffering, even if vampires weren't technically human.

Kryzon watched the thrashing girl with a mixture of disgust and wonder. Akane often did this; she would sit alone with him in this room and spend long hours, sometimes watching short clips of her daughter murdering gladiators, sometimes rambling to herself about nothing in particular. Most of the time, Kryzon blocked out Akane's musings, except when she addressed him directly. That would be a huge mistake. Refusal to acknowledge Akane would lead to starvation; he'd discovered that many months ago. In a futile attempt to connect with the outside world, Kryzon launched his mind into the surrounding area, and as always, the lack of communication crushed him, putting him into a helpless pool of despair. He wasn't required to work, yet still felt more of a slave than a prisoner. All he could do was trot the circumference of his entrapments, for there wasn't even enough space to break into a run before crashing headlong into one of the sturdy barred walls. He'd scratched his fangs into oblivion attempting to break each and every bar, but there were no weaknesses in its construction. The floor was as hard as cold cement, and he was reminded of that every night he'd had to curl into a ball and sleep on it. When food came, it was hardly a pound of meat, and made his stomach want to throw it back up. He was running out of vigor.

_Kryzon, is that fucking you man? Kryzon! Dear God where the fuck are you? _Keiji's voice was loud and clear. Kryzon was so excited that he couldn't respond. Akane cleared her throat.

"Who was that, dog?" Akane snarled, immediately noticing the glint in the wolf's eyes. It was hope, she realized, rather than any physical change in Kryzon's demeanor. She did not hate the concept of hope itself, but rather the fact that something had given the beast hope, and the only hope an enslaved animal could have would be of freedom. She would never let him leave this place, so long as Vladimir ordered it. She stood up and began her descent from the top of the stairs leading to her slick black marble throne. As she waited for the wolf's reply, tendrils of blackness began to gather around the prayer beads wrapped around her neck. The glint of hope she'd seen was immediately replaced by fear, a terrible, maiming fear.

"It was no one. For the first time in weeks, I was able to connect to one of my animal brethren in the wild. He hungers as well." Kryzon lied smoothly, despite the quick lump that had formed in his throat. If he gave away the pack's location, or sabotaged their rescue mission, he'd probably end up dead and at fault for the deaths of his werewolf family. Knowing what was coming next, he tried to relax, focusing intently on the pains of his ribs poking skin, and the gaping emptiness that was his stomach.

As if picking a lock, Akane wrenched open Kryzon's mind with a thought. She felt little to no resistance on his end, which meant he had nothing to hide. Still, she couldn't be quite so sure. "That's quite the reach your mind has, despite your situation." Akane pondered aloud, lightly running her hands along the thick bars of his entrapment as she walked around its perimeter. "I'm assuming you made contact with a North American wolf?"

Kryzon didn't take the bait. Agreeing with Akane would be setting himself up in a web of lies, which would lead either to his torture, or to the pack's location being revealed. He couldn't afford either. "A Siberian breed actually, probably more closely related to a domestic dog than our powerful animal kin." Kryzon flinched when Akane stopped directly in front of him. The tendrils of darkness seeped from her beads and onto the floor, pooling around his legs and anchoring to his shadow. The black threads completely immobilized him. His heart was pounding.

"And not a werewolf?" Akane's voice had a seductive lilt to it as she forcefully grabbed him by his snout, cementing his mouth shut. Kryzon didn't remember when, but she was now on the inside of the cage, gazing into his eyes with piercing irises that burned scarlet. While his legs were locked in position, he could still breathe, but answering would be impossible verbally. He shook his head no while her crushing grip only increased in fortitude. With a quick pull to the left, he was quite sure Akane could break his neck in two places. He prayed it didn't come to that.

Akane watched the fear in his golden irises bubble to the surface again. As her own excitement grew, the black tendrils multiplied in number, covering her with a sinister net of ectoplasm. She forced her way into his mind again, clawing at its corners, enhancing every weakness and shutting down all of his strength. Akane could hear him whimpering at her, but she continued devouring his inner dreams and fantasies. When she was satisfied, feeling stolen power fill her bosom to the brim, she released him, turning away before he collapsed to the floor in a cold sweat, choking. There wasn't another sound in the room.

"He's nearby, and alive." Keiji relayed to Sutonokami, who all nodded their heads in understanding. It was extremely lucky for him to catch Kryzon's stream of thought among the massive chaos they were about to fly into. He applauded his fellow wolf for surviving these terrible months; those bitches couldn't have been feeding him right, if at all.

"We're on their fucking radar, be prepared to jump at any moment!" Lucien bellowed. Nearby there was an enormous explosion from a missile launched directly at their chopper. It wasn't long before anti-tank rounds coming from automated turrets began firing in their direction, prompting Lucien to make their descent quite the messy one. Lucien swerved to the side, but a rocket slammed into their rear, shoving them forward into the sky. They were still over a thousand feet in the air, but options were slim. "What kinda fucking SPECS chopper doesn't even have active artillery? How am I supposed to shoot back?" Kaiser chuckled at Lucien's outburst and launched himself from the cockpit, followed by the rest of his team. The vampires would be waiting for them soon, but they weren't against having a nicely sized welcoming party.

"Cayera, have my sword delivered to the castle promptly, and then return to your post as instructed." Vladimir's voice alone forced the vampire into a compliant bow. Though it wasn't necessary, he stood in her wake, waiting for her response, as the sheer force of his power weighed down upon her back. To a human, that alone would exert a feeling not unlike triple the force of gravity on Earth, and would probably cause fatal injuries.

"Yes my liege. It is as you command." Cayera remained low until Vladimir left her presence, and immediately began executing his command. She could not believe that in less than a few days, the Daywalker would be arriving and she'd finally get to see him in person. She had only heard of his prowess through hushed whispers and closed doors, and with the recent destruction of Elder Markus, she was bountifully curious about what he could really do. Wiping the smirk from her face, she laughed softly and hopped into a speedboat, as merry as could be.

Vladimir walked through the empty village with his shoulders broad and head high. Glistening battle armor reflected the last pinch of sunlight left in the sky, and amidst the approaching darkness, Vladimir knew there were many, many members of his army. Whether wolves in the sky or an advancing swordsman, all would be struck down at his majestic feet. Vladimir grinned when he thought of Onyx, the weapon. Once he got his claws into that weakling's heart, it was game over. "Rise, my friends of the night, for tonight, we feed!" Vladimir's voice boomed across the expanse, and a multitude of red eyes opened, vampires erupting into a frenzy, attacking everything around them.

"Hey baby, are you enjoying the flight so far?" Tiffany slid into the seat next to Onyx and locked her pink lips over his for more than a few moments of indulgence. His eyes proposed something entirely different than his next few words suggested.

"Just over here chillin'. It blows my mind that here we are traveling in a private jet, big time first class, and it's only so that we can risk our asses against the most dangerous vampire in this century." Onyx gave Tiffany a kiss on her neck and then glanced at the dark clouds out of the window. He could see lightning flashing a few miles in the distance, and was surprised that at this height, they hadn't felt any turbulence yet. The Van Helsings must have been hella good pilots in their day.

"What's on your mind hmm?" Tiffany snaked her hand through Onyx's fingers and guided them up the length of her thigh. Wherever they met bare skin from her torn jeans, she shuddered in delight.

"Are we even gonna be okay landing with all this shit? We've got heavy artillery, legendary artifacts, and who knows what the fuck else on this so called holy plane. I have a feeling the average police officer wouldn't exactly be lenient to us happily exiting a plane filled with enough arms to blow up the fucking airport! Did someone call in favors for this?" Onyx's brain was throbbing the longer he thought about it.

"Precisely," Tiffany responded, puckering her lips for him once more. She leaned in again, but Onyx pulled away from her. He must have been anxious as all get out. "Is there anything I could do to help you relax?" She tried to keep her tone light and airy, but Onyx wasn't cooperating with her. His head only moved from the window when Aisha stormed out of her seat, and back toward the on board dormitory. A small twinge of hate took hold on her heart as she watched his eyes follow her, and then return to the floor.

"I'm just…not in the mood Tiffany. With all this shit going down, Blade talking about dying, just getting myself out of the hospital, the Nexus being overrun…I can't keep my mind on one thing let alone relax. Shit is real this time; I could really die going up against Vladimir, and I almost died fighting Markus. Have you seen the look in Blade's eyes? He doesn't even think we're ready for this, although we've been kicking vampire ass for years now! How the fuck do you think that makes me feel? Markus put him in a critical state, and that sick fuck _worked_ for Vladimir, how strong do you think the baddest vampire himself is? I'm usually set, confident and ready to whoop up on anyone that comes against me and my team, but when my mentor starts trippin'…I don't even know how to feel right now." Onyx ignored Tiffany's hands running along his back, sneaking their way into a shoulder massage. He found his thoughts mulling over Aisha and her sudden outburst. _What the fuck was her problem anyway?_

"Can I get you something to drink Mr. Blade?" Blade arched his eyebrows at the flight attendant whose voice was too high to listen to comfortably. She was pushing a cart filled with freshly baked pastries, along with some high dollar champagne that he had never heard of before. As far as flight attendants went, her outfit was certainly distracting, unbuttoned just enough to reveal the cleavage created by her obviously D-cup breasts. Ignoring that, Blade did have several thoughts of getting completely wasted at a time like this, but he didn't have the heart to do so.

"I think I'll pass on this one Marissa. Not much left of my liver these days anyway." He watched her chuckle, and then push the cart away, somehow feeling that there was something oddly familiar about her, especially with her lightly burned hands. He didn't dwell on that long, however, because his thoughts were on the worst times ahead of them. Blade didn't know if it was he or his vampire side that could smell it, but there was a strong stench of death in the air. Peculiarly enough, the smell both pleased and revolted him at the same time. He was prepared as always to give up everything in the battle against Vladimir to save humanity, but sending two kids into the fray with him? That weighted heavily on his conscience. One martyr was enough; he didn't need Aisha or Onyx to die on his mission. It had happened too many times in his life before. But what more could he do?

Blade knew that Aisha was already screwed up mentally due to her family problems. Not only had her brother tried to kill her simply because she had turned into a vampire, he didn't even try to listen to her story and now he was AWOL somewhere, abandoning his own crew on some whacked out personal trip. That was just fucked up. Aisha had also told him about missing her mother, whom he had never seen or heard of before this year. In the years that they had spent together as allies, he supposed it was now a regret of his that he hardly knew anything about Onyx or her, and had never really taken the time to ask. The same was true for the reverse, only, when he was asked about his past, he simply shut down the conversation. Perhaps he was growing colder towards the world as his prime passed him by, and soon, well there might not be much more time left to ask such important questions.

Then there was James 'Onyx' Carter, whom he had taken in at a very young age, despite everything he'd ever known about himself. Who had started out as merely a liability ended up being quite the competent partner, who had saved his ass from Markus, and watched over him when he wasn't in a position to do anything. Now here Blade was sentencing him to death by the same creatures he'd taken the time to rescue Onyx from? What was he doing? Who was he to mold this individual into his protégé without hearing what Onyx wanted to do with his life? Again, he wanted to hurt himself for knowing nothing about Onyx's past, back before the Vampire Human War of 2045 sixteen years ago, but he knew exactly why he had never bothered to search—the attachment. Despite their wild range of ages, his teammates were becoming family to him, and that never was a good sign. Again and again he'd brought people close, only to lose them in the tides of battle, often to vampire fangs. His sword had cut down many, but had also had relentlessly destroyed families, both his own and those that belonged to others that were innocent. What was he going to do? Support from the Van Helsings went as far as the jet landing in Thailand, and he could not blame them. The Nexus was their home to protect, and it was soon to be in shambles. Without anyone left, the entire United States was at risk, and after that, the world would be an easy target for vampire rule. It was up to him to put an end to this, it always was. He'd vowed on his life, to himself and to Whistler, that as long as he lived and breathed, he'd protect humanity against evil. He was a one-man army.

There was a painful lurch behind his brain that almost dropped him to the floor. Thankfully, his reflexes were fast enough to grab the chair in front of him for support. Blade looked around for evidence of the plane having faltered, and found none. Instead, there was a sinister whisper in his ear. "There are explosives on board, check the back."

Aisha stormed down the aisle, the sight of Tiffany and Onyx nauseating. As embarrassing as it was, due to her recent situation with Blade, she had been craving gentle touch like that, and jealousy burned her down to her core. Throwing her arm over her head, she slammed down on one of the cabin beds, wanting to thrash around like a child. It just wasn't fair. No matter how attractive she was, she just wasn't able to connect physically with anyone around her, and it killed her inside. Part of her felt like she didn't even belong with the group. Despair wedged its way deep within her soul and it was a minute before she realized that someone was watching her.

"What the fuck do you want?" Aisha's growl scared the attendant, who jumped back in shock, clutching her heart with hands covered in ugly third degree burns.

"Just wanted to see if you were okay Miss, to see if you maybe wanted a drink?" The flight attendant's voice was twice as annoying as her physical existence, however, when she offered Aisha a beautifully made Sangria; she had no choice but to overload on alcohol. By the time the buxom blond had left, Aisha was already tipsy, enjoying the rush of the warm liquor she'd ingested. There was something off about that woman, but Aisha couldn't find the mind to care. With a tray full of sweets and alcohol, she already knew where she would be for the remainder of the trip.

It was just Blade's luck that the plane began tossing and turning as if it were a boat and not an aircraft, as soon as he stood to his feet. Gabriel and Enoch tried to assure him over the intercom that this was only a temporary inconvenience, but Blade knew that by the time they exited the storm, it would be much too late. He could smell the explosive nitroamine clearly now, and while his eyes scoured forward, he couldn't find anyone else on the plane. In two minutes, there was the large boom of detonation in the rear of the jet, and the plane shot forward, before careening down toward the ocean below in a deadly nosedive.

Jonathan began barking orders the moment they landed at the safe house. He was furious. Not only had Yuki Naga forced him to try to protect a dying city with extremely limited manpower and no hope of further reinforcements, Yuki had also mandated that they lock the creatures within the Nexus to prevent them from attacking surrounding states. That hadn't worked at all, and aside from costing the city billions of dollars in damages, it put everyone in mortal danger who worked those tireless hours guarding the city checkpoints, monitoring the computers and fighting on the front lines. Now, he had no idea if anyone else in the headquarters had survived, and if they had, what could he do? Apart from locking the entire building down, there was no possible way to attempt rescue. It was all because of Yuki. What the hell was his boss thinking?

People were running left and right all over the place, and there were still panic stricken employees of the company huddled in blankets, crying their eyes out. It was a feeling he couldn't exactly understand. His father had disowned him when he was only five years old, choosing instead to run off to Germany and instantaneously marry the woman with the largest breasts he could find. He never returned to the United States after that. Following that, Syfy's mother cracked under the strain of raising a child on her own with the rising cost of living in the city, and he'd been put up for adoption. Since no one had taken him in, as soon as he was of age, he'd enlisted in the local militia, and the rest was history. There was no semblance of family in his life; as far back as he could remember. Try as he might to empathize with those crying over lost family members, it was no use. There was no one living today that he considered family. There was hardly anyone on the planet that he could really lose and feel pain to the same degree as these families. The closest he came to that was his fiancée Jade, but he couldn't bear to think about her right now. Jonathan felt completely separate from the mourning organizations' employees as a whole.

Jonathan found himself walking with a stoic look plastered onto his face. All around him were swirling emotions, but he could only feel anger. There were evacuation delays, absences in media coverage, and military strategy deficiencies. These were all things that could be attributed to Yuki, yet the responsibility for it all fell onto his shoulders.

"What!" He yelled, whipping around to a small touch on his shoulder. Oberon's face remained unchanged, despite Syfy fuming and hollering. Oberon adjusted the only hair he had, a singular black ponytail situated in the center of the back of his bald head. He hadn't worn nearly as much eye liner as was characteristic of him, but thick Egyptian tattoos still ran down the right side of his face, as prominent as ever.

"The President is on his way right now to see you in person. He says meet him in the upper level conference room F." Oberon's steely green-eyed gaze encountered Syfy's, who curled his lips into a smirk.

"That's just what I've been waiting to hear." Jonathan replied, punching his palm and waving Oberon away from the elevator. Leaning back against the wall, Syfy crossed his arms and let out a huge sigh. He wondered how far he'd be able to push, how much he could really argue and what change would actually come from it. An overhead light flashed and a beep signaled for him to exit the elevator. While he walked, he tried to distract himself by humming the tune of a popular J-pop song, but his mind was too swarmed with rage. Only the sight of Dr. Rashidli's worried face changed that, after he swiped his access keycard to the conference room.

"You don't want to be in here Nadira, who knows, I might throw a fucking chair across the room." Syfy's voice was dark, and he leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, rather than sit down or stand across from her. Dr. Rashidli knew that he was tired, for gloomy shadows had begun to show beneath his eyes. She also knew that because of his lack of sleep, his temperament was dampened even further. Perhaps it was better that he wasn't within an arm's length of her.

"It was mandated for me to attend this meeting. This isn't good Jonathan. For Yuki to travel across the world to see you here after knowing what happened to the Nexus…That's not good. The city as a whole has suffered catastrophic damages, but as an organization, our branch was practically bankrupted by this assault. Millions of dollars of tech is now unusable, destroyed, or in enemy hands. Our building is overrun by a new breed of vampire that will eat any survivors and raze the thing to the ground. There isn't any amount of reports that can fix this!" Dr. Rashidli combed her fingers through her hair, stress mounting at an all time high. This was too big of a jam, much too big. Was there even anything for them to return to in the Nexus? Would Yuki show them any mercy on this?

"Please stop." Syfy begged, looking physically hurt by her words. His head sagged low, but there was still an angry fire burning within his eyes. He probably wanted to kill someone right now, it was a good thing he was unarmed. Her head turned toward the doorway at the same time as his, hearing the click of the entrance mechanisms. Five men entered first, dressed down in fancy shades and gray designer suits. When Yuki Naga entered wearing a red button up and Levi jeans, Syfy knew something was wrong. Yuki was a man of formality, stricter than anyone he'd ever known when it came to attire and etiquette. To see him casually in this manner was something Syfy could never predict. Even so, he bowed his head low, in line with Dr. Rashidli. Together they stood as one front, though Syfy planned to do all of the talking.

Yuki bowed quickly back to them, though it was much shorter than usual. That alone produced anxiety, which was good because what he was about to deliver to them wasn't going to be easy to digest. He watched the pair, analyzing each of their movements quietly before opening his mouth. "Good evening, President and Vice of SPECS Nexus; I have come to distribute quintessential news that is of the highest priority."

"Excuse me if I may Yuki-kakka1, but there are some immediate concerns I would like to address with you as well." Syfy cut in, only half a second away from being terribly rude. Yuki raised his head to gaze into Syfy's bold face, and pressed his lips together in a hard line.

"What about you Nadira? Are there also pressing concerns on your heart as well?"

Dr. Rashidli hesitated initially, unable to hold Yuki's powerful stare. When she summoned the will to answer him, her own answer surprised her at first. "If Jonathan has any qualms with you, then both as his advisor and his subordinate, I am sure that mine follow. There are no apprehensions in my heart that Jonathan could not express to you as of now, Yuki-kakka."

"Understood," Yuki replied, turning his stare back toward Syfy. "What setbacks will you bring to me today that I have not already heard of and dealt with accordingly?"

The tension electrified the room. No one had even taken a seat in one of the twenty conference chairs, and Yuki's five guards simply stared blankly ahead with stone-faced expressions. How much they were scrutinizing, Nadira would never know, but even the smell of their hidden armaments was enough to discourage any physical confrontations. She was almost holding her breath as Syfy addressed his elder again.

"You left us there to die." Syfy spat, spacing out each word for emphasis. He squared his shoulders and puffed his chest out unconsciously, surely appearing a threat to the meager height of his boss.

"And yet you are alive."

"There are valuable employees who are now undead thanks to you." Syfy's voice deepened, and while he did not take a step forward, Dr. Rashidli could tell that he really wanted to.

"They are undead thanks to the spy within your ranks, whom you accepted with open arms. That was a fault in your protocols, not mine. Did you even discover the spy's identity? What of Blade, the vampire slayer? If he were in your possession as you reported, I am quite sure your nanosuit forces, in combination with him, would've been more than enough to survive the onslaught."

Yuki's questions gave him pause, but Syfy's jaw was still pulsing and the wheels in his head were turning much too fast. Hot venom was building in his mouth, and he would not leave the room without laying everything on the table.

"The suits are now in the vampire's hands; I'm sure you know how catastrophic that result is. There are millions of these creatures concentrated into one area, how do you propose one building would stand against them all? Did it not cross your mind once, to send additional reinforcements to aid us in this battle? Dr. N and the primary engineering team were fortunate enough to get escorted top priority with the government officials. What about the rest of _US_? How do you plan on addressing and compensating these broken families for the damage you helped cause?"

"We sent you Anubis!" Yuki's voice rose to a threatening tenor, which was uncharacteristic of him. He was losing his cool.

"He was probably the spy!" Syfy yelled back, taking a hot step forward. Two men each weighing over two hundred pounds crossed the table top in an instant, one of them slamming Syfy's windpipe against the wall with his forearm. The other, not to be outdone, slugged Syfy deep into his stomach, dropping him down to his knees. The affront made Syfy bite the corner of his tongue, so blood started running from his mouth. With his arms restrained, he had no choice but to let it flow sloppily down his chin.

"You insolent little fool! Had I come here solitarily to reprimand you, you would be out of a job and on your way back into that hellhole!" A vein slithered into view on Yuki's forehead, and his face was growing redder by the minute. Syfy couldn't see him at first, until the two men picked him up by his arms. They were both inches taller than him, restraining him with powerful martial arts grips. If they had wanted, breaking his limbs would be a cakewalk.

Nadira stood frozen, pushed out of the way when the men jumped Syfy. She couldn't will herself to move or speak, but tears were forming in her eyes. What was she supposed to do when the remaining three men were eyeing her expectantly, waiting for her to react? She couldn't stop glancing between the men and Syfy, so that when Yuki extracted a full tang samurai katana from seemingly thin air, she gasped in surprise.

"Nadira Rashidli, the moment this meeting ends you will be relieved of your position as Vice President at SPECS Nexus. A severance package will be delivered to you in person, at any location you request in a time frame not exceeding thirty days. You will be paid full vacation time and a half for the remainder of the year, in addition to holidays. Now please leave the room." Yuki wasn't going to speak twice.

Nadira gave Syfy a sad, defeated look. Without a weapon, and two of the men suddenly towering over her back, there was little she could do to avoid being forced from the vicinity. She shuffled her feet as slowly as the men would allow, but didn't dare turn around to face in Syfy's direction again. Nadira was still quite sure that Yuki had no idea of what kind of relationship they had, for even she was unsure of that. Turning around or attempting something foolish would only get him into deeper trouble, and would possibly cost her her life. When the door closed behind her, she kept her eyes level, and remained walking forward, slowly zoning out on the world around her. She hadn't even had the opportunity to show Syfy the hard drive full of very important data that she'd recovered while escaping their headquarters. She knew it would have brightened his mood a bit. As she thought about the sealed conference room, Nadira could only imagine what kind of terrible things Yuki could do to him there, without fear of repercussions at all. As the world around her blurred due to her tear ducts overflowing, she thought about how mixed up she was at the moment. She didn't care that she'd basically just been fired from the company by its president; she only cared about Jonathan and his well being. It was a scary place to be, but she didn't mind.

The elevator ride down to the cafeteria was very very lonely. A few employees stopped to ask if she was alright, and she managed to brush them away with a forced smile. There was only one pair of arms she wanted to sink into, a pair of long, strong arms that she might never see again. Dr. Rashidli gasped as her knees met the floor painfully. Surrounding her were five individuals all asking her questions, waving their arms and tapping her cheeks. The last thing she saw before her face hit cold tile was a pair of blue suede shoes.

Syfy watched her leave with a mixture of deep pain and intense self-loathing. It was his fault that she had been relieved from duty. He was sure that because of his outbursts, Nadira was now without work, and it made him feel like a terrible human being. If they did anything to her, so help him God…

"Eyes front Jonathan." A heavy hand wrenched his jaw so that it aligned with Yuki, while Syfy spat out a heavy curse. The short man had a wicked grin attached to his face like a doll, but his blade was fully drawn and would be pressed against his neck in the next couple of seconds.

"Now that the elephant has left the room, there's something even larger that I need you to do for me Jonathan. I am not terminating your employment with SPECS Nexus, but offering you a temporary assignment suited to a much higher caliber official." Yuki watched the running blood from Syfy's mouth with disgust. Blood stained Syfy's entire front, and the untidiness of it irked him. Of course, it didn't matter much. If he pressed any harder with the katana, Syfy would bleed out in a matter of seconds.

Syfy chose his breaths carefully to avoid slicing open his throat, but his words followed a different tune. He almost burst a blood vessel holding back a vicious insult to trade for Yuki's implied one about Nadira. "You just fired the best fucking paranormal blood analyst on this side of the planet, left me without troops and an office, and without a successor, and you want me to perform a task for you? Fuck that. If it's such a high caliber task, get one of your higher up cronies to suck the cock for you." Syfy grimaced as the blade's clean edge broke the skin on his throat ever so slightly. Behind him, the grips on both of his restrained arms increased, putting immense pressure on his shoulder muscles. His outburst cost him freedom of motion, that was for sure, and if they pulled any harder, both of his shoulders would dislocate at once.

"Tread softly Syfy, or the last think you feel will be cold steel. Just because I fired her doesn't mean we're done with her as an organization. Have no fear, she'll be in good hands, whether she's under your command or not." Yuki kept a knowing eye fixed onto Syfy's deep brown ones; however, he couldn't goad a reaction from him. The president of SPECS Nexus wore a callous expression, devoid of panic, shock or fear. Jonathan had stopped struggling long ago, after his men double-checked to see if he was armed. "Can I inform you of the task at hand, or do I have to remind you who it is you serve under?" Yuki's hot breath clouded Syfy's personal space. As annoying as that was, he said nothing in response. Syfy couldn't feel anything in his upper limbs, and his tongue radiated a pulsating pain. "Looks like you're ready to listen." Yuki whispered, sheathing the sword in its beautifully crafted scabbard. "I need you to travel to the end of the world and eradicate a confirmed werewolf. I know it's a little different from what you're used to, but you are the best person for the job to stop this monster from reproducing. You should be happy to know that in New Amaurot, there will also be plenty of vampires for you to exterminate, as per usual. Additionally, SPECS International will cover all of your expenses and luxuries, and you are free to command a small team of our best weapon's engineers for anything you might need to bring with you on your journey, which you will complete alone. This is an immediate and permanent order. You will not stop until you have destroyed this wolf or you forfeit your life to me, do you have any questions? What kind of weapons might you need for this assignment?" Yuki paused while Syfy absentmindedly nodded his head.

"None, just me and the sword that's pointed at your heart."

"Fucking newsworthy," Blade hissed, finally able to catch his breath on the shore. His clothes were sopping wet and several times he'd swam much too far to pull in cargo that was too heavy for the light boats the Van Helsings were able to somehow pull from the wreckage of their plane. In addition, aside from the artifacts, some gun crates that were surprisingly undamaged and other cargo, he'd had to carry Aisha carefully to the shore as well. She was thankful, but it didn't make his muscles any less tired. The Van Helsings were off to find a rental vehicle for them, for they'd have to stay at a local inn to organize their plans for attacking the great castle that was still on an island around fifty miles away.

"What the fuck happened?" Onyx threw his hands into the air ten minutes later; they were standing in a circle, basically having their burned garments air dry with the salty sea breeze of the Gulf of Thailand. Thankfully, no one had been killed in the crash.

"Sabotage," Blade sneered, glaring from face to face. Aisha nodded her head in agreement, but didn't say a thing. Tiffany was also unusually reticent. Blade looked into the dirty blue sky, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. The aching in his bones subsided, and suddenly his physical and spiritual perception flew off the charts, ascending levels beyond anything he'd ever experienced before. Was this another vampire change? Old power was definitely at work here. "Where's that flight attendant? I have some questions for her." Blade smirked, cresting fangs in his mouth.

"Chill out Blade. I haven't seen her though, since the crash. Do you think she was the cause of everything?" Onyx held his hands up in front of him, sweat coursing along his brow at seeing Blade's fangs. The man was starting to look like he wanted to drop a body.

"I'm almost positive Marissa caused this crash. It's only more suspicious that she vanished afterwards, not even leaving behind a body. I may not be the best estimator, but unless she had Olympic level training, there's no way she'd be able to swim the full distance to shore, much less doing so undetected." Blade didn't have to turn his head to see the rental truck that looked more like an old-fashioned wagon approaching them from a mile away. It was the Van Helsings.

"Marissa, wasn't she the busty chick from the Red Dragon months ago? The one with the slutty attire and attitude?" Onyx could remember her now as clear as day, and wasn't sure why he couldn't tell that the attendant was the exact same vampire that had luckily escaped with her life that night.

"The very one, she had a crush on you if I remember correctly." Blade responded, tilting his head as the shrill ringing of a cellular device blared from Tiffany's pocket. Blade wasn't sure how in the hell it still functioned after the crash, especially since it wasn't packed into any of the waterproof boxes, but was three steps ahead regardless. "Put it on speaker." Blade commanded, crossing the distance between himself and Tiffany with only a thought. His fangs were more of a threat now, and he could feel dark energy from within begging to be released. Tiffany obeyed him with shaking fingers, and for the first five seconds, there was no sound other than the slowly approaching rental truck.

"Ye-ye-yes my-my Lord." Tiffany stuttered. Those would be her final words.

"Is the aircraft down? Have you brought the Daywalker to the island as directed?" The voice on the other line spoke. Tiffany dropped the cell onto the beach sands seconds before the speaker was able to finish.

Blade was so swift that before Onyx and Aisha could even formulate reactions, Tiffany's body was no longer among the land of the living. The amount of vicious sword slashes that ended her was unprecedented in such a small time frame. Aisha noted that despite the super human speed and flawless execution of each clean cut, that Blade hadn't even infused chi into his weapon. This was raw, natural power. It shocked her. After that, Blade appeared to stand six inches taller, while in the distance, the two members of the Van Helsing family were sprinting full speed in their direction.

"On my way motherfucka. Enjoy the last sunset you'll have with a head, because I'm taking it before the toll of twenty-four hours, believe that." Blade picked up the phone and relayed. On the other line, Vladimir's cool, calm laugh erupted, bathing the entire beach in a sinister music.

"Congratulations Daywalker, for taking the long way instead of landing right here in New Amaurot! You'll find a nice welcome has already been prepared for you! Why wait until tomorrow? I'm sure Aisha would like to meet her mother in the flesh wouldn't she?" The phone line disconnected.

"What's going on?" Enoch asked, Gabriel hot on his heels in a wheelchair procured from the mainland of Ban Bang Mot. Special tires had been fitted to its rims, which allowed for much easier travel across the sandy beach. With a look of horror on his face, Gabriel watched Tiffany turn into smoldering ashes, and then looked between a fanged Blade and a cellular device, which seemed to command every else's attention.

"That whore was working for Vladimir, probably for the entire time we've known her. She was acting under orders, even if the blast would've killed her as well." Aisha expectorated, wanting nothing more than to stamp her foot over her blackened remains. Blade ignored the rapidly shifting emotions coming to the surface of Onyx's face, and made his way to the rental truck, which coughed out an ungodly amount of thick black smoke. He bid both Gabriel and Enoch adieu.

"So it wasn't that flight attendant? I'd had my suspicions." Gabriel rubbed his beard, and simply ended up shrugging his shoulders. Onyx was at a loss for words, so instead of offering his own input, he trailed after Blade, leaving Aisha with the two Van Helsings.

"A loved one, wasn't she?" Enoch asked, watching Onyx unnecessarily pour his emotions into kicking large amounts of sand into the air. He turned back toward Aisha with eyes that at one moment were blue, the next green. His hair went past his shoulders in long, straight locks. Aisha had never seen this member of their family before.

"Not by me." Aisha responded coolly, turning her attention to Gabriel instead, whose spectacled eyes immediately read into more than what Aisha was letting on. Gabriel's wisdom was much like hers in that respect, only she needed powers to delve into minds. Since Gabriel didn't prompt her until informing Enoch that they needed privacy, she decided she would address him respectfully, as was due. "He mentioned my mother, sir." Aisha started, looking like a child next to Gabriel's elderly disposition. "I know you talked to Blade about two rare swords hidden within the US, one of them belongs to her. Can you tell me anything about it? Anything you could tell me about my mother would also be a great help, for I'm trying as hard as I can to contain myself so that I won't head to the castle tonight, especially with alcohol running through my veins."

"A wise move," Gabriel praised, ruffling his hands through his beard. What could he tell the daughter of Akane Koga that she didn't already know? What could he tell her that she would actually want to hear?

"Lucia noblesse seems to think that she's dead, so I'm going out on a limb here, but if vampire royalty declares it, either she's been excommunicated, or someone somewhere along the pureblood line is full of bullshit." Aisha's eyes never left his, though she had to keep pulling her hair behind her ears due to the intensity of the breeze. Even though she had stayed behind going on fifteen minutes now, the rental truck stayed in place, waiting for her. She was glade Blade was a patient man.

"Excommunicated, I'm sure. Akane is a well-known name in our family; she's a huge practitioner of alchemy and black arts. I wouldn't say her work is forbidden, but she's definitely crossed lines into social taboos that the royals don't agree with. Most people call her a shaman now, and the rumors about her current activity are numerous. It just seemed generally accepted that she'd crossed into the other life by now, whether through death or her own experiments." Gabriel reached up and gave her a pat on the back. "Be careful Aisha. I don't want to be the one to tell you this, but though you may have known your mother has been alive when others have doubted you, she is not the woman you knew in your childhood. Keep in mind that whatever connection she has to you, she has not once come to visit you in person. Stay vigilant."

Aisha thanked him, and took the long walk along the beach to the copper colored rental truck. With her thoughts in tow, the expanse seemed to take forever for her to clear. In the distance, the waves pounded with fresh energy, adding to the turmoil that raged within her head. Try as she might, she could not picture her mother as anything other than the beautiful woman she'd known so long ago. The mysteries that surrounded her meant nothing, other than the one involving her conception. That was important because Makugane had also mentioned Aisha somehow conceiving children, and she had no idea how that would come to be. No one did. As she slid into the sole remaining seat of the cramped truck, she added that to the ever-growing list of questions she had to ask Akane. Vladimir, she believed she was ready to face. Facing her mother on the other hand, she was not.

Chaos and destruction, there were no two words better suited to the scene. As the soulless rampaged without boundary or concern for human life, blood stained every store, every vehicle, and every home. Their numbers drastically increased and in only a few hours, their reach had extended from the New England states down to Maryland. Within a few days, the East coast would be full of vampires, all under Vladimir's command. Anubis couldn't stop the slow forming smile. It was only a matter of time before they smoked out SPECS from their safe houses, uprooting the enemy and stealing more of their advanced technology. Sadly, the Nexus seemed to be the only true Stronghold on the East coast, and most of that technology he'd already locked away, until Vladimir instructed him on what to do with it.

Anubis watched the mindless feeding with disinterest, for even the soldiers amassed by the humans were hardly enough to combat the soulless. For every death on his side, there were five humans being added to his ranks. Pretty soon, the White House would make an executive decision, and then the heat would be on. If they decided to do anything with nuclear weapons, or even with controlled napalm strikes, the remaining humans would die in a much faster rate. However, currently, there were much too many people panicking for there to even be enough to organize a media team to broadcast it. So here he was, bored out of his mind, searching for the few humans worthy enough to corral the new vampires like sheepdogs. He was looking for new lieutenants. The thought of being a shepherd annoyed him though, so Anubis figured it was time for him to jump into the fray.

"The ruby eyes and the black dog's head, it's him!" Vandy lowered his assault rifle and ushered a group of soldiers forward. "Apprehend him if possible, but don't hold back with the silver rounds!" Vandy blasted a clip at the solitary figure, clothed in regal, Egyptian style robes of bright gold and purple. While he was sure his shots were perfectly aimed, the clothing wasn't even torn by his stream of bullets. Nearby, there was a grenade explosion and cries of death as more warriors fell against the creatures. He couldn't allow himself to be one of them.

"Your mind works better than the rest, doesn't it Vandy?"

Even though Vandy had circled around the vampire stealthily, he watched Anubis turn directly his way. Was hiding going to be any good? He ducked low behind a halfway destroyed semi and a newspaper stand, but the voice still came as clearly as if it were just next to him.

"Let me show you."

Vandy leaped back, tripping over the sidewalk and landing hard on his side. A golden snake the size of a minivan shot out of a great fissure in the pavement and at through the entire width of the semi. When Vandy looked back at the vampire, he had a marvelous scepter outstretched in his gloved hands, the top of which was adorned with the head of an adder. Silver bullets entered his body, dozens at a time, but they carried no effect, and didn't pierce through him even once. Even though there were well over forty-five men attacking him, Anubis patiently took them down one by one, a heavy, metal pike being his weapon of choice. The bottom end of the scepter was now an armor piercing weapon of death, while the golden snake rendered great tanks and ballistic protected GILA vehicles obsolete.

Vandy barked orders into his radio, but no one followed them. The second comrades' blood spilled, people became solely concerned about self-preservation, and a few even tried to run away from the skirmish. But Anubis could sense fear.

Vandy slid along the pavement, prying an extended clip from cold, dead hands. As quick as he could, he scrounged up a few M116 flash grenades, a Glock 19, and switched his radio out for one containing better batteries. Seconds later, the corpse eroded away into a swarm of flies, which made him curse. He couldn't grasp it, this vampire was nothing like the ones he was forced to fight in Tibet, and he thought he'd seen it all.

"Oh but you haven't Vandy, this fight is only just beginning!"

Beside him, a local policeman vomited up blood before thick cobras came pouring out of his mouth. The animals sank their teeth into his neck, injecting him with liters of deadly venom, which left him paralyzed and convulsing, the whites of his eyes blank and lifeless. Vandy threw an ultraviolet grenade straight at Anubis, and it blanketed the area in a brilliant white light that was supposed to turn him into ashes. When the light faded though, all he saw were bodies pinned to street signs like a twisted game of pin the tail on the donkey. Why wasn't he being attacked directly?

"Because this will be you." Anubis lifted Vandy from the roadway by his neck, choking the poor Asian man, who dropped his powerful rifle. His hearing was beginning to fail him, but Vandy could've sworn he heard someone far away shout for soldiers to hold their fire. Nevertheless, heavy rounds fired scores at a time, and he thought they would turn him into Swiss cheese, but Anubis would not allow that. "The darkness has always been within you Vandy, and now, you will show them your darkness. Receive this power and destroy those who fire at you."

Vandy couldn't control himself. When he moved, it was with more efficiency and more strength than he had ever known. When he heard the sickening snap of broken necks, he delighted in it; he was beside himself with joy. It became effortless to disarm a soldier trained for ten years or more, and break his bones in two, before dealing the blow that ended his life. Vandy hijacked a military jeep, and then used it to splatter the bodies of those choosing to flee from Anubis. Those that fled from him would meet their ends as well. "Send in everything you've got." Vandy audaciously commanded into his radio. The euphoria that filled him at seeing his brothers in arms motionless and bloody was damn near orgasmic. He found that his grip on the Glock was so tight with wound up excitement that his right hand had grooves imprinted in it. Each time he shot a round, crazy laughter left his lips. Skulls exploded with the high caliber rounds, but before the bodies hit the pavement, Vandy would relish in torturing the lost souls. Pretty soon, his entire face was covered with military blood, and he was happy.

Anubis smirked, using Vandy's face to execute the expression. This is what he was talking about. Now, things were twice as entertaining.

"Is it just me, or has the city been pretty empty lately?" Keith asked, popping open an ice cold orange soda and helping himself to the entire bottle. Mariko gave him a disgusted look at the upturned two liter bottle, but fell into agreement with him.

"I thought they were being contained here for some reason, but I haven't seen one of those pricks in days now. Are we sure that there are even any more Alivatesh spies hiding here? We could be the only ones in the Nexus. God knows SPECS went to the dogs pretty early, there's nothing there, or in any of the government buildings but ruins." Mariko ran a brush obsessively through the two long bangs that framed her face, while depositing a long machete back on the wall rack. The other curly ringlets of purple hair bounced with her motions. There wasn't much to do around here anymore.

"Ah guess it jist means mair fucking alcohol fer us 'en!" Joe laughed. He had been inebriated as often as possible for the past few days, and didn't show any signs of letting up on the alcohol consumption anytime soon. Sterk remained quiet behind a computer monitor, using the system to access manually placed video cameras that he'd placed around the city. They were right; it was mostly dead these days.

"I guess that means no Daywalker either?" Trigger spoke up, adjusting the ten-gallon cowboy hat on his head. He took a seat next to Panther, but it was no secret that his eyes kept wandering over to Mariko. Panther couldn't really blame the Southern gentleman, aside from ample covering of her butt, Mariko had so much skin showing, she might as well have been a fetish model. He was indeed attracted to those sorts of things, but given that he hadn't liked when Angela's eyes were on Onyx, he gave her that same respect and averted his gaze.

"Blade left on a private jet a while ago." Sterk answered curtly. "He leaves us with the shitstorm, and takes off whenever he pleases." His eyes never left the monitor, but he did lean back in his chair and blow out a huge sigh. "It makes me almost want to start smoking again."

"Or maybe he's found the source of the shitstorm, and he's attempting to diffuse it." Surprisingly, it was Angela who rose in Blade's defense, though she didn't put much conviction in her words. "Historically speaking, he does this shit all the time does he not? Pretty soon he might save our necks, ya know?"

Sterk snorted as a retort, but didn't say anything further. Meanwhile, Mariko seemed intrigued by the opportunity to resume the conversation.

"I thought your team was against Blade? How can you speak so positively of him?"

"With all due respect Mariko, it was in our pursuit of Blade that we joined in officially with Vizuela. That and Trigger's genius mind." Angela said.

"Much obliged," the Southern cowboy added, nodding in Angela's direction.

"Well, have you ever spoken to him civilly? He is a hunter with Vizuela despite everything and of all the other guilds out there that he could have joined; he chose what is now your guild. Have you ever tried approaching him without a gun pointed at his head?" Mariko had migrated across the ornate rug under the dining table and was now leaning on the back of Trigger's chair. There was quite a bit of flirtatious energy between them, though neither spoke to each other.

"Never." Panther was the one who replied, speaking the word as if it were a deadly curse. Flashbacks assaulted his brain from fifteen years ago, and they would not stop. There were bombs, visions of blood, and broken families. The memories were too painful to speak about. "Despite his heroism, Blade has caused an equal, if not a greater level of damage to people than he'll ever know. Some see him as saving humanity, while others say he destroys families and leaves widows and orphans everywhere he goes. While I can agree with both sides of that coin, I'm far from calling him a hero. Pass me some scotch will ya Joe?"

Joe poured him a great glass full of the alcohol, smiling as he did so. When he finished, Panther's full attention was lost in the liquid.

"Well shit. Hearing all of this depression and despair makes me want to drink with you. Can we change the subject back to killing these Alivatesh assassins?" Mariko left the room then, bounding away and out of sight in less than three leaps. The surreptitious wink to Trigger was missed on everyone but its target.

"If there are any left," Sterk reminded her, using Mariko's words. "If there are any left to kill."

Kaiser leaped to the next branch on powerful legs. Easily, his claws provided the necessary grip, and his eyes provided a visage that was as clear as day despite the darkness around him. Twenty feet beneath him, his team tracked him on the forest floor, moving swiftly and stealthily through the shadows. Since they had crashed down on the island, they hadn't met a single vampire, which was mind-boggling. They'd been through two small villages so far, both as quiet and as empty as ghost towns. If Kaiser didn't know any better, he would swear that they were being set up, for something huge.

"So that's where Dragon Tower used to be huh? It sure doesn't seem to have stayed standing for long." Keiji mused, looking miles ahead of them where the first traces of a great Gothic castle were coming into view. It was true, the grand skyscraper of a tower that stood there for hundreds of years was no longer there, and as more and more of the castle entered his field of view, he found it very disappointing.

"Kind of a small ass castle for someone powerful enough to hold Kryzon captive isn't it?" Lucien sneered. He stopped his cautious gait when Kaiser hit the ground in front of him, immediately shifting back into his human form. He waved them back, effectively halting the movement of the other three wolves. Warwolf was the first to speak.

"It extends underground. The castle is just a front of deception."

"There are humans up ahead, but be wary, we don't know how many vampires are currently eyeing them as well. Though we shall proceed in disguise, let's not set off any unnecessary alarms." Kaiser instructed. Around him, shoulders relaxed, guns were put away, and a heightened sense of team camaraderie bound them all together. Even Warwolf, who appeared to be an elderly yoga master, wore two Berettas across his chest and walked with his head higher and his back straighter.

Fire, held in place by a giant burn barrel crackled heartily, while drunken miscreants paraded around it, dancing shoddily while slurring words and talking about Jesus and his mysterious miracles. When the group of three took notice of Sutonokami, one drew a weapon as swiftly as lightning—a kitchen fork.

"Aye yo lookie deese nobstrobs out here whirring weapons and jazz! Fuck you think you are walking on our turf? We'll put bullets in your head!" The fork toting man jeered, though his screwed up face looked like he was about to vomit at any given moment.

"At ease man. We're just travelers passing through is all." Keiji stepped forward with a nod from Kaiser, stretching his hand out as a show of good faith. Only Warwolf was subtly keeping a vigilant eye on their surroundings, inhaling deeply through his nose for any signs of a threat.

"Well pay the fawking toll pool boy!" The second man, hardly eighteen years old, walked up to Keiji and shoved him in the chest. The wolf did not retaliate.

"Listen, I'm sure there's a way to resolve this peacefully. Let us pass and we'll scratch your backs for you. Each one of us here is a mercenary believe it or not. Anyone you want dead?"

The three men laughed together as a response. While two of them remained chortling for over a minute, the eighteen-year-old boy only had one thing on his mind.

"Why don't you pay the fawking toll pool boy?" He shoved Keiji again with an increase in fortitude, and was quite disappointed when he did not fall down.

"We only want that rich bastard Vladimir dead so we can have his place huh?" Ignoring the plight of the youngest drinker, the older men gestured behind them where the castle loomed on top of a mountainous hillside. Kaiser could understand Lucien's outburst from before, for an edifice that was supposed to be grand, the well-decorated castle was hardly the size of an American mini mansion.

"Let us through, and he's dead." Lucien piped up, stepping ahead of Kaiser and Keiji. The oldest man, whose face was shrouded in an extremely thick brown beard took Lucien's hand and shook it.

"I want his finga as proof. Shit like that fetches high prices around here now that everyone's looking for a hit."

"A hit of what?" Lucien asked, though only because he was mentally prompted to do so by Warwolf.

"You know, the good sheeeeeeit man! You didn't hear this from me, but a fluid ounce of vampire blood? That shit's worth over a grand on this island! Don't even get me started on how rare werewolf blood is! My cousin told me that he's sitting in a double wide house after selling that stuff for only two weeks!"

"What?" Lucien struggled to relax, though three pairs of hands held him back. His grip had tightened so harshly on the man's hand, that he could feel the bones inside trembling. Were it not for the numbing amounts of tequila, this man would probably be screaming in pain. Lucien let go, though he didn't want to. "Where's your cousin live? Is it a little further uphill?"

"Pay the fucking toll pool boy!" The youngest man screeched again, and his chest exploded, scattering the members of Sutonokami. His body landed next to the fire barrel, but that by far wasn't the worst way to go. As nine men burst from the shadows, cackling like a pack of jackals, they descended upon the two inebriated men carrying all manner of firearms and blunt weaponry. The wolves watched while one man was burned to death, having his face and beard fully scorched off by two men hoisting him over the barrel by his ankles. The last one was little more than meat and bone by the time the weapons stopped bashing into his body.

"Let them take us Kaiser, I'll handle this." Warwolf stepped forward, and a lanky teen with a heavy hand and an orange Mohawk backhanded him to the ground. Blood came from Warwolf's chapped lips.

"They say they're mercenaries huh? Why don't you fellas lay down your munitions before we blow your brains sky high?" Mohawk man stepped to the side to reveal a crouching man holding an oversized RPG supported by his thick shoulders. At this distance, pulling the trigger would turn them all into bodies. These guys had to be the stupidest thugs on this side of the planet. In any case, Kaiser was obedient to Warwolf, even though he was the alpha of the pack. They were each searched and stripped of any weapons they'd had on hand, and then bound and gagged by less than professional hands. After twenty minutes, a hooligan wearing an identical green jacket like the rest of them, pulled up in a vandalized moving van, and they were roughly shoved into the back of it. When the door closed down on them, leaving them in darkness, their minds began working with hyper speed as they mentally discussed their current affairs.

"Where are they taking us Warwolf? We just gave up quite a bit of artillery, is it really the best move to be taken captive like this, where there will probably be more reckless humans with itchy trigger fingers?"

"Lucien, I'm more worried about how they were able to roll up on us undetected. The smell of gunpowder from that first shot should have been enough to alert us all of an approaching group attack, yet none of us had the heads up we should've had." Keiji frowned.

"We're moving northeast at a rate of around fifty miles per hour, I'd say we're probably getting a free pass into what's clearly vampire territory. At the same time, probably getting much closer to that man's cousin's place, am I right Warwolf?" Kaiser asked for confirmation.

"That you are, Kaiser. That you are."

Syfy sat alone in the private jet, forty two thousand feet in the air. He'd tried, unsuccessfully to communicate with Dr. Rashidli for the past few hours, and that worried him more than being sent to kill a werewolf on his own on an island notorious for being infested with vampires. The task was far from the hardest thing he'd ever had to do in the organization, and he actually preferred it to how he spent most of his days, in office, filing through massive amounts of paperwork. Her well-being meant more to him than anything Yuki could say, but he didn't have much choice after accepting his superior's order. The second he'd left the room, he practically boarded the plane, and wasn't allowed any detours in between. Though the widened expanse gave him the feeling of being alone, he knew that cameras took note of every change of position he'd made, and he was being monitored twenty-four seven. They couldn't see his thoughts though.

It was also worth noting that once he got off the place (if they were able to successfully land anywhere near this island) Yuki had taken his word that he would complete the mission or be hunted down in cold blood. From there he wouldn't be watched, or targeted, yet still had full unlimited access to billions of international funds through the black credit card that now lined his wallet. That also put him on edge. Yuki was allowing him access to far too much, as if sending him on a suicide mission. His organization was already crumbled, so what risk did Yuki take in sending him to his death? The entire ordeal was too confusing.

"Would you like some tea?" Syfy shrugged his shoulders but accepted a piping hot cup from the blond woman, before she traipsed back to the food compartment of the plane. Syfy stared into the liquid for the longest of times, the smell alone brining back memories of his night in Vizuela. Without realizing it, he'd fallen asleep, and the sounds of her lovely shamisen began warming his heart, Ai's shamisen.

In the dream, she had a bright pink lotus flower in full bloom fastened in her black hair, with a simple tie-dyed shirt and leggings. Man could she play. Despite the melancholy tune her instrument produced, Ai wore the hugest smile in the world. When she opened her eyes and seductively chose him to be the object of her vision, a burning sensation went straight to his cheeks that boiled his blood.

"This one is for you Jonathan."

Ai's voice melted his heart, but not after the complete melody changed into a lullaby, one he had heard so, so long ago. As sadness and reminiscing replaced joy and lust, his mind was going in thirty directions at once. What was the name of the harmony that never ceased to bring tears to his eyes? Who had hummed it to him, and why was it so memorable?

"It is the song written into our hearts." Ai sang, standing tall to her feet. The shamisen continued playing on its own, combining with an entire unseen orchestra. Ai's words were so heart wrenching that she cried while she sang, the stinging tears mirroring his own.

"What song is it? Whose song is it?" He asked, desperately, reaching his hand towards her. She smiled, stretching out her delicate fingers to him. When she spoke, he couldn't hear anything, and at the contact of their hands, he jolted awake.

Syfy shouted an obscenity, hot tea burning through his shirt and pants like tissue paper. After flailing like a madman, he finally calmed himself, upset that the endeavor was being watched. Someone somewhere was getting a good laugh out of this, and it pissed him off to no end. Once he settled down, he grabbed a change of clothes from his hardly packed suitcase, and immediately put them on. The song was still playing in his head. The tune of the lullaby still made him want to cry. He looked in the mirror, absentmindedly running his fingers through his short black hair. For the smallest of seconds, his face morphed into that of Ai's, perfectly set and as beautiful as a supermodel. Her scarlet eyes seemed terribly lonely and called out to him. Drowning in that vision, Jonathan placed his hand up against the glass, against hers, and prayed that she'd know that everything would be okay. It just had to be.

Blade was quite astonished at the degree of silence that lay present between the three of them. They'd gotten settled and unpacked in a hotel ordinarily reserved for traveling merchants by slapping on smiles and flashing US money. Additionally, they'd checked into a room with beds to accommodate the three of them, though they weren't much more than small twin-sized cots. From the moment they'd arrived, neither Aisha nor Onyx had spoken a word, the former simply huddled into a corner hugging her knees while the latter seemed overly invested in his cellular device. Usually, Blade was the one who reveled in a reticence this intense, but today it was nothing more than a bother. They needed to plan for tomorrow. They needed to talk.

Aisha closed her eyes and imagined nothing other than an inky black darkness that swallowed everything whole. Gabriel's warning about her mother introduced a string of new fears that she didn't want to dwell on, but like the blackness, took control of her full mind. She had to face facts. Her mother was connected to Vladimir, and she was alive, which meant that she knew about Vladimir's sinister plans concerning the soulless vampires and the United States. Akane knew that her daughter was alive and well also, yet as Gabriel pointed out, other than becoming a voice in her head, she had not once visited, or suggested that they meet up. Could Vladimir be holding her prisoner? If so, why would he let Akane communicate with her daughter only through telepathy? It gave her a headache.

Blackness overtook everything once more, leaving her feeling empty and devoid of emotion. She was about to give up on the meditation, writing it off as a massive failure, when a face, and then a body formed in her mind. It was Syfy, and even seeing him in jeans and a t-shirt was making her incredibly horny. Was she getting wet simply from thinking about him?

"It'll be okay Ai, I know it will. You're not alone, ever." He opened his lengthy arms and she barreled into them, enjoying his musky scent that reminded her of hard work and gunshots.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." She said, while everything faded away again. She opened her eyes, feeling fangs slowly growing in her mouth and her stomach rumbling loudly. She needed to feed.

Tiffany was gone. While she was a traitorous, sellout bitch, he still considered her a lover and it was more than just a passing fling. He was sure that he wanted it to go somewhere, but his head was being flipped upside down. If that was the case, and he really loved her, then why wasn't he crying for her? Onyx thought back through the past few months and reminded himself of all the red flags Tiffany had brought into his life. Onyx couldn't lie, she'd certainly made things interesting, but Blade had warned him about this very thing, and it made him sick. Chancing a glance at the Daywalker instead of his cell, he watched Blade stare out of the window for a few seconds, and then turn and lock his eyes onto him. Onyx hated that look. In Blade's eyes, since it was destined to happen, he refused to give her a chance, not even acting with the slightest bit of civility towards Tiffany when she was up and walking. Despite her eventual betrayal, it was Tiffany who had bailed their asses out of Lotus when SPECS was swarming everywhere. It was Tiffany who had helped them learn about Vladimir's artifacts and in fact, Tiffany had rescued Blade from SPECS Headquarters before he and Aisha could get there. Tiffany was the only one who had stayed with him through his hospitalization, while everyone else did their own thing. Tiffany was the only one who really cared about him. Occasionally, he got wavering signals from Aisha, but he got nothing but shitted on from Blade, and he was tired of it.

"I'm not risking my life for you." Onyx found the words accidentally slipping between his lips, but he meant them nonetheless. Blade only nodded, not even granting him the luxury of a response. James was rising to his feet before he knew it. "See, this is the kinda shit I've been having a problem with lately, do you even feel anything? You just cut down my girl man, and while that may not have an effect on your black hole of a heart, it did mine. Did you even consider that despite everything, it could still have been the flight attendant from the Red Dragon? She tried to kill us back then too didn't she? And now no one knows where the fuck she is, but because Vladimir calls Tiffany, she blew up the fucking thing? For all we know, the jet could have been compromised from the get go, but you didn't even think about those options seriously did you? You cut her down with that same fucked up look you have now. A look like she was worthless and that you don't really give two shits about me. You want me to give up my life for _your _cause? I wouldn't give my left nut to have Vladimir's head on a pike right now. I'm fucking done." Onyx swept out of the room, snatching his thick North Face jacket from a hanger attached to the back of the door, which slammed behind him so hard that it shook the scarce, but homey pictures decorating the walls of the room. Blade did not stop him. He didn't even have the energy to argue with sounder logic.

"I have already given up too much for you, for what little I am receiving in return." Blade turned sluggishly to Aisha, whose comment was definitely left field. She had full fangs in her mouth, and was practically glowing from head to toe. She sauntered up to him in a sexy move, placing an elegant hand on his chest and gazing at him with smoldering brilliance. "Because I offered you blood, I must hunt for my strength and it disgusts me that even so, you cannot feed yourself or take care of your own sexual gratification." All Blade could do was grunt, because Aisha's other hand was indeed eliciting arousal from his groin. "I am here for you now, but my mother is my top priority. When I find her, consider this allegiance severed, null and void. I will not fight for you anymore. Your eyes are so blinded by the mission that you can't even foster compassion for those willing to die for your mission. You're old in your ways of thinking, and a sad excuse for a vampire. I hope you do not die alone." Rather than use the same door Onyx did, Aisha leapt from the third story window, disintegrating into the cold air and shadows instantly. Blade swore, allowing his full weight to fall into one of the cheap wooden chairs the hotel offered. The chair immediately broke, leaving him flat on his back. Blade didn't stand back up.

"Embrace the darkness. You should be out hunting for tomorrow. You know Aisha will not feed you again, not while you're still changing."

The scenery around him dissolved away until he stood in a familiar graveyard. The sky held a blood red moon 100 times larger than the actual thing, as if it were hurtling on a crash course to the Earth. He knew for sure that he wasn't meditating. Did the demon force him to return to his own mind? "Changing into what? I haven't lost my humanity, so what the fuck am I doing here?" Again, Blade could not move, so he merely shifted the world so that he could face the vampire who looked exactly like him. This time, graciously, the entity was fully clothed, dressed to the nines in body armor and a scarlet trench coat packed to the brim with arms.

"I swear you are one stupid motherfucker. You don't even know how to show yourself some fucking respect, are you shittin' me?" His clone shook his head sadly, puffing on a huge name brand cigar probably filled with some illegal drug. The smell was overpowering. "We're the same person remember? Bat wings, steely skin, knifelike claws, and an irresistible desire to rend human flesh with a pureblood vampire's body and mind? Is any of this shit clicking upstairs? Do you understand the words that are coming outta my mouth?"

"I am not you!" Blade roared, though his clone only clicked his tongue while shaking his head even more.

"I didn't jump in your skin last time when you transformed here, and I didn't climb into your body to make you feed from Aisha and want to fuck her brains out at the Van Helsings' church! Hell, I didn't even give you that big ass boner you've still got now because you want her! Are you still trying to play that I'm trying to possess you bullshit? Haven't you already learned that you're the one in control here? I'm just along for the ride."

"How did I get here?" Blade's question was more of a threat, but he failed to instill fear within the entity that stared him down with a condescending smile.

"Still no respect. You realize that without your team, Vladimir's gonna shove his foot twenty-five inches up yo' narrow black ass right? You betta hope they still on your side after all this, even Aisha told you to your face that you ain't shit to her. I'd be hurt after something like that, I mean, girl is fine, and you're just gonna let her go? Did the bitch forget that it was _your _mission that helped her find her momma in the first place?"

"Vladimir could be lying about Akane. You know this." Blade wanted to smack himself for carrying on this conversation, but it was nothing he wasn't prepared for. Between the constant fluctuations of hormones between his human and vampire DNA, and with the serums potency practically infinitesimal, there was a very good chance he was well on his way toward changing into a vampire for good. It was either that or he was on the path toward insanity.

"He's not. That's fact. You're acting like an emotionless bitch, that's fact. If you don't get your team back, you will fail this mission and Vladimir's gonna lay waste to dat ass, fact. If you don't feed, then whether you like it or not, you're going to change, and you know what that final product looks like, also fact."

Blade waved his hand in front of him and a giant zephyr of wind shaped into blades destroyed the other entity. The move was so powerful that the world around him shattered, bringing him back into reality, where a cold sweat had formed on his forehead. His body was shivering, and he was still alone. Panting with the amount of effort it took just to stand, Blade closed the window, left open by Aisha's departure. He was freezing. Hunting in his coat for his emergency phone, he picked up and dialed Gabriel's number, getting nothing but a dial tone. He'd forgotten to ask for more of the vampire serum, and without it, he was fucked. He called again, and even tried punching in Enoch's digits, but didn't get an answer. His body demanded blood and his craving for it was intensifying by the second.

"Fuck you, I'm not going anywhere!" Blade screamed, tearing his shirt open. His body suddenly felt boiling hot, the sweat sliding down his back in small, racing streams. His ears filled with sounds of the night, screams in the distance made by both humans and animals. His nose could detect the scent of a fresh kill miles away, and it made him hungry, so hungry that his vision clouded and his fangs dropped. He was famished.

Against his better judgment, Blade exited the room, even though he tried his hardest to use his arms to keep himself in the doorway. Here he was again fighting himself, physically pulling his body back toward the room, though his legs kept walking forward. His teeth ground together, and his muscles tightened, but he didn't stop hiking down the stairs to the lobby of the hotel.

"Anything I can do for you Mr. Blade?" The inn keeper asked, much too excited to be working at three in the morning.

Blade pulled back his hand, and sliced the man's throat open with a curved claw.

1 Kakka is a Japanese honorific (like –san or –sama) that is used to reference the head of an organization or body of people with respect. It usually applies to presidents of large corporations or country leaders


	18. Chapter 17: Before the Sun Can Rise

**Chapter Seventeen**

Syfy landed without a hitch in a small airport on the northern side of the island. Unbelievably, he was greeted by other humans with respect, and after picking up his luggage; a limousine driver addressed him by name and carted him away to the nearest fancy hotel. Syfy didn't have the heart to engage in petty small talk with the driver, so he just sat and took in the sights, the jazzy tones from Kenny G almost lulling him to sleep. There was nothing abnormal about the island to the naked eye. Hotels loomed in the distance with flashy neon signs, angry drivers blared their horns at carefully positioned stoplights, and there were pedestrians loafing on the sidewalks of every single town they passed through. Syfy momentarily felt like a shark diver trapped within the metal bars of a cage. It was as if the car was the only thing keeping Syfy away from all the vampire madness. He glanced down at his watch, taking note that it was going on four in the morning. Where were all the vampires?

"We have arrived monsieur." The driver opened his door for him professionally, insisting on taking his single duffle bag for him, but Syfy politely declined. Fancy was the right word for the hotel all right, its grandiose stature alone drew him in. He walked through a glassy arch with an overhang designed to keep out the elements while providing a fantastic view of the hotel's white and gold interior. The red carpet under his feet may have made him feel like a celebrity if he'd had that big of an ego. Nice, freshly potted plants dotted the short walkway, before a large, yet easily opened pair of double doors beckoned him into Oasis.

"I imagine I've already been checked in?" Syfy asked his driver, named Chuck, who simply nodded ahead at the receptionist. She was a beautiful brunette with stunning hazel eyes and a septum piercing. Syfy ignored the luxurious fountain with a sculpture of a mythical beast shooting water from its great, fanged mouth, and pressed forward, noticing some serious technology in the lobby's computer tech. To his right, there was a well-furnished common room, complete with flat screen TV and a coffee maker that would satisfy a king. This place sure spared no expenses, even offering free complimentary donuts for the hungrier guests.

"I shall take my leave now sir. You have only the finest arrangements at your fingertips, and at your request, a vehicle more befitting of your task can be prepared in half an hour for you, you must simply ask the receptionist." The stout man offered a bow, giving him one final pat on the shoulder with white gloved hands. "Keep your wits about you in this place. All is not what it seems." Chuck tipped his hat to him, cracking the faintest of forced grins, and was gone in a flash.

There was no line in the lobby, but occasionally Syfy saw half-dressed women with mud masks and men with towels wrapped securely around their waists. Did this place have an indoor spa or something? His intuition was correct.

"Welcome to Oasis, Hotel, Lounge and Spa. I'm Carolyn, how may I be of service to you today?" She wasn't a vampire. Syfy found it extremely hard to believe that Carolyn didn't know the truth of the island, and the creatures that surely rampaged through it in the night. Even so, her mood was delightfully cheery, though not enough to unnerve him. He supposed bringing up creatures of the night to a receptionist would be just a little overboard, so he didn't say anything about vampires to her.

"Jonathan Young from SPECS Nexus, it's a pleasure. Three nights should accommodate me." He reached into his pants pocket and retrieved the slick black card with silver numbers, handing it to her gracefully. Her eyes widened upon tapping the embedded chip against their automated card reader. Suddenly, Carolyn seemed even more invested in conversing with him, if that was even possible.

"My pleasure indeed. You might find that your experience here is so rejuvenating that you'll extend your stay for another night Jonathan. Shall I show you to your room? We have you down for the Japanese business suite, an excellent selection." Despite Carolyn's sly innuendos, she did nothing more than show him to the suite with her professional attitude first and foremost. Again, a bellhop attempted to carry Syfy's bag for him, but Syfy turned him down, placing a ten-dollar bill in his hand for the inconvenience. When Carolyn reached his room, Syfy was blown away by the décor. Paper door sliders slid away to reveal a spacious, high-ceilinged room with an expansive view of the ocean and harbor. Though the water was murky black, Syfy could imagine the most beautiful sunrise waking him up in the morning through the thick, glassy window. Fifteen floors into the air, Syfy expected nothing less from Yuki, who probably booked him the suite as a reminder of his authority over him. Inside the room, carefully placed paper lanterns hang from the ceiling in every shade of the rainbow, casting a soft, warm light on the two rooms, which were divided by large, kanji print wall dividers that folded inward. The master bed was a king size and fit for royalty, pillows fluffed to absolute perfection, with fresh sheets that still smelled of fabric softener. A full fridge, office with laptop, and an entertainment stand with a fifty inch plasma screen came with the package, as well as a bathroom that could hold three of the ones he owned back home. Carolyn rattled off the numbers he could call for services ranging from aromatic treatments to high dollar foodservice, but he only really paid attention to the important parts. The room was too distracting. There was a damned mini pond in the floor that held lily pads with lotus flowers and nice, fat koi fish that reminded him of a television show he'd watched years ago. How could he not be floored by such design?

I'd recommend the hot springs down below to relax you before you sleep tonight. I don't fancy you to be the type to get plastered on a dance floor in the lounge this late. The springs are accessible twenty four hours a day, and using our patented technology, the water always stays hot, and relaxes the tension in both the muscles and the mind. If you want, I could see to it that you get a _personal _massage afterwards. You look stressed." Again, while Carolyn's voice held that same, seductive undertone, she remained smiling and professional, even when he brushed her off. This woman was so confusing.

"I do think I'll take you up on that hot springs offer though. Where are they again?"

"Lower level, take a right as soon as you get off the elevator, you can't miss it. I think most everyone has retired for the evening, so you should find the mixed baths quite unoccupied. Enjoy your night." Carolyn turned and left then, leaving him to finally unpack what little his duffel bag contained. Since he hadn't known if there was a courtesy bathroom near the springs, Syfy decided to walk downstairs shirtless, as he'd seen many other men do half an hour before. While the thought of being pampered in a spa had its merits, he hadn't been to a hot spring ever in his life, and the idea of sharing that space of solitude with no one else was much more appealing than going to sleep, despite the task he had at hand for the next day.

If his room was any indication on how good the baths would look, then Oasis sure as hell did it justice. The baths were gorgeous and spotlessly clean. As Carolyn had said, once he placed his key fob against the scanner and entered, it was completely empty, save for a couple in their upper teens, relaxing in a corner and discussing football. Even though Syfy was already sure of it, he found himself double-checking and confirming that they were human as well. Paranoia was settling in. He slowly climbed into the soothing warm water, whose aroma was a mixture of vanilla and honey, and fell straight into bliss. Steam rose from the surface, prompting him to glance into the sky, where there was a beautiful arrangement of skylights for their viewing pleasure. Again, such a luxury was useless at the time, unless he wanted to gaze upon a few stars here and there, but just the thought of it was overpowering. Syfy let himself relax against one of the smooth boulders that ringed the perimeter of the bath, cares floating away and evaporating into nothingness just like steam. His body hadn't felt this good in a long, long time.

The blades on her back weighed nothing at all, and neither did she as she zipped through the inky shadows within New Amaurot. The fifty mile trip away from Thailand had taken Aisha less than five minutes, but finding a suitable human to feed on had taken her an hour longer. Naturally, she killed those she fed from, preferring those who were corrupt or stained with sinful deeds. Tonight she had quite the range of people to choose from, but most of them hadn't violated any laws and were completely innocent. There wasn't a drunkard or a drug addict in sight. She blamed Blade for it taking so long to fill her stomach, damn him and his stubbornness.

Aisha stopped at the entrance of the hotel, catching the scent of something rather delicious within. She stormed through the walkway and was at the front desk in an instant, where a young woman greeted her with a small bow. For a place called Oasis, the huge expanse of an atrium seemed vast and empty. Perhaps that was logical at this time of night though.

"Welcome to Oasis, Hotel, Lounge and Spa. I'm Carolyn, how may I be of service to you tonight? Are you here for late check in?"

"That depends; do you have a room for us?" Aisha's brilliant eyes flashed deviously, drinking in Carolyn's form as if she had x-ray vision. It was true to an extent, for a quick glance over the woman's surface thoughts quickly revealed her bi-curious nature. Aisha didn't care too much anymore for personal preference and discriminations; she really needed to feed. Carolyn sucked in a breath and shivered, as if she could feel Aisha visually raking her way down her skin. Aisha was pleased at the intensity of Carolyn's reaction. She hadn't had to mess with her mind at all. She was sure her belly would be filled quite soon.

"I'll go on break, follow me." Carolyn teased her index finger underneath Aisha's chin before sliding around the counter and sashaying to the elevator. Aisha would've killed her right then and there, but with the extent of cameras positioned in the area, she decided against it. The posh elevator closed behind them, and Carolyn pressed the button for the lower level, changing it purple. Before she knew it, the brunette's hands were pulling her long black hair and her lips were buried inside Aisha's neck. Unprepared for the sudden move, Aisha moaned, arching her body into Carolyn's. The woman had swiftly moving, cream colored fingers that found the lining of her panties quite easily. With a movement not unlike water, she grinded against Aisha's leg, further driving her arched back into the wall, heating things up. Aisha opened her eyes and found Carolyn breathing hard, staring at her for a few seconds as if asking permission on behalf of her hands. Aisha was saved by the bell.

The elevator doors opened with a ding and Carolyn bounced out of it, steps renewed with a sexual energy that suddenly radiated from her matted black hair to her toes. Aisha followed her inside the bathhouse, and trailed behind as Carolyn directed her to a hidden room that branched off from the lockers and general shower area. The bath was beautiful, and smelled amazingly pleasant, so Aisha's eyes wandered in the process of walking through the immaculate, steamy enclosure. The crystalline water longed for her, and she wanted to get in it so badly. Aside from a touchy feely couple, there was only one other man in the bath, an amazingly attractive bronzed skin man with marvelous chest muscles…

_Shit._

Carolyn pulled her away from him, but not before Aisha burned the desirable image of his bare flesh into her mind. Syfy stood tall, washing himself with a bucketful of the hot springs water by dumping it over his head. Glistening like an African God, the water kissed every curve, before settling just under his belly button, making her lick her lips as her eyes went further downward, getting lost within the pool of water which hid the rest of him. She'd know his face anywhere, the way his cheekbones were sculpted, the arch of his eyebrows, and the shape of his plump lips… Aisha was feeling sexual energy alright, and it had nothing to do with the woman sitting her down on the edge of a futon.

"How long is your break?" Aisha casually asked, while Carolyn stripped her formal work shirt away, forcibly pressing her bare skin against Aisha's hands.

"Long enough," Carolyn breathed shakily, goose bumps covering her wherever Aisha's fingers landed. The feel of Aisha's nails lightly scratching her skin felt amazing, prompting her to close her eyes with the delicious stimulation.

Aisha turned Carolyn's mouth up toward hers and kissed her hard. When she pulled away, the human was already seeing stars. Aisha licked her neck lightly while Carolyn's nimble little fingers rubbed against her center amorously, slipping their way past her thin lacy garment of protection. Carolyn cried out at the same time Aisha did, but both were silenced by Aisha's fangs crashing down on Carolyn's skin. The process was quick, and extremely painless. Nevertheless, even though there was no evident injury or bloodstain, Carolyn's body remained in a lifeless slump, while Aisha felt ready to run a fucking marathon. Now, there was the other matter she had to attend to.

Thoroughly satisfied with his bath, Syfy took one last deep inhale before preparing to leave. Glancing at his fingertips, he was shocked to find that he hadn't pruned at all, and his skin seemed shiny and new as a baby's bottom. As odd as it sounded, he wouldn't mind taking a bath like this every day, for the miracles it performed for the body were quite excellent. If he had time, he'd definitely return to the baths before leaving for the United States again. He'd booked three nights after all.

"You will take me to your room, or I will kill you where you stand." The voice was a hot whisper in his ear, followed by a gentle nibbling on it. Syfy felt the sharp points of needles at his lower back, near several nerves that he knew would paralyze him permanently if pierced or severed. He tried analyzing the threat as best he could, remembering that he hadn't seen or heard anyone else get into the bath, and other than Carolyn, he hadn't spoken to anyone else in the hotel. Who would have a motive for attacking him in a place like this? Was this Yuki's doing as well? "Get out and wrap yourself up without turning around, or you will find that that will be the last thing you ever see." Aisha's smirk at Syfy's bare ass was priceless. It was a beautiful moment.

There was no one else to see Syfy cover himself with the towel, because unknown to him, the couple in the bath were dead, their drained corpses probably five feet under the water by now. There would be no help. When they exited the room together in a pair, Syfy still dripping warm water, Aisha forced him to take the stairs all the way to the top, and never once was he able to confirm her identity. That is, until the door to his room locked behind him.

"You may now kiss the bride, handsome." Aisha's voice was musical. Syfy whipped around, his eyes growing huge with surprise. It was Ai! Before he knew it, his arms were wrapped around her in an embrace, though he couldn't understand the source of his uncontainable joy, given the fact that she'd just threatened his life no more than fifteen minutes ago.

"Why are you here in New Amaurot, Ai? Are you really stalking me that fervently?"

"I'm here looking for someone." Aisha started before realizing that her choice of words didn't help her case at all. She attempted to laugh it off with mixed success. "I have reason to believe that my mother resides on this island somewhere. I haven't seen her in a long, long time, so I'm just paying her a visit." She finished, while he finally ended his embrace.

"What about the rest of Vizuela?"

"They're still in the Nexus, fuck em." Aisha bantered, allowing her eyes to graze ever so carefully over the fullness of his nude, masculine body. He must've still been stunned by her presence to not realize that an open-armed embrace required the use of two hands, and the knot work on his towel hadn't been the best by far. She knew it was a good idea to force him to take the stairs. A sexy blush flared up on Aisha's face, which alerted him of his condition, his face reddening as well. Before he could scoop up his snow-white towel, she knocked him over and blanketed him instead. Her body was hot.

"Ai, what're you," She silenced his question with a fingertip, kissing him lightly on the forehead. As she rocked against his manhood, she could feel his body responding in kind, burning with the same white-hot flame of desire. As the flame burned brighter, they elongated both of their bodies, rocking back and forth against each other with passion. He was as hard as a rock.

"I'm about to give you something you've wanted for a long time." Aisha whispered ardently in his ear. Light, feathery kisses wrapped around his side and down his chest. Syfy ran his fingers through Ai's smooth hair, delighting in the simple pleasure of tickling her ear. She giggled at him, playfully swatting his hands away. He could see her eyes smoldering when she looked at him, but also there was a happiness there that he had never seen in his life. She placed his hands on her bare hips and removed her shirt for him, ignoring the sky, which was slowly becoming redder and redder.

Blade's claw was denser than steel as it entered the innkeeper's neck, easily sawing through both the internal and external jugular veins, crippling nerves and frying essential brain synapses. The man couldn't even cry out on his last breath, because his life was spraying so fast from his neck, the idle splashes on Blade's face pleasing him in the highest degree. When the body ceased to move, the man collapsed on the floor, and panic hit him like a freight train without brakes. Blade found himself remembering something from ages ago, when he'd first met the late sword smith Kyle in the Nexus, rest his soul.

"This sword has a contract, you know this right?" Kyle inspected Blade's sword closely, running his thumb along the side of the metal, nodding to himself. "If you want to use its more dangerous techniques, it's going to cost you blood, and a lot of it. Have you even killed a human in the last decade? I've heard that vampires are your thing, but they go straight to ash, which is not what this sword requires. At the rate you're going, your weapon's edge will be dull by the end of the year."

Blade watched Kyle's inspection with an indifferent attitude. "It is a contract I cannot fulfill at the moment, I am aware of the consequences. I'd like to think of myself as fighting with one hand behind my back ninety-five percent of the time. If I can continue eradicating vampires at the same rate, big or small, as I've been doing in the past, then the dullness of the blade makes my mind no less sharp and my hands no less strong. I'll deal with the consequences."

"But the Yagyu Shinkage-Ryu1 style of swordsmanship is contingent on both chi and blood! It's absolutely necessary! Without both, your blades of wind are ineffectual, and you might as well have a death sentence!" Kyle retorted, inadvertently banging his fist on the counter. He couldn't stand to see a weapon as great as Blade's famed vibranium alloy sword with its contract unfulfilled. It was like handing a soldier a wooden blade and sending him to the front lines of war.

"You want me to show you ineffectual?" Blade bit back, snatching his weapon from the countertop before Kyle could counter with anything. His chi was overflowing into the weapon within moments, filling the sword to the brim with divine energy that caused the weapon to radiate with a white iridescence. Blade nodded his head toward Kyle, and then exited the shop, turning slowly to face it once about five feet away. With only one hand, he drew a cross in front of himself, which became a wave of white-hot blue lightning, which destroyed the store with one strike. Kyle burst through the front window to avoid the conflagration that lingered afterward, and Blade dropped to his knees. Traffic stopped, prompting onlookers to gaze at the destruction in awe. Kyle dusted off his Ninjutsu garments, and then performed a swift set of complex hand motions. Manipulating fire had always been his specialty, and within the minute, the gigantic blaze was no more, instead just leaving behind a big mess of glass, assorted weaponry, and rubble. There was Ninjutsu for fixing that as well, but Kyle would not perform it in the presence of civilians. Even so, he still shook his head at Blade.

"The damage to my store is real, but so is the damage to you." Kyle whipped out a Kunai knife and positioned the point directly on Blade's nose. "This is what I mean when I say your advanced techniques are worthless. With no blood, it's like starting a vehicle without gasoline. Your chi, the car battery, can be charged to its maximum, but that will do nothing more than enable you to use the car's lights; you will not go anywhere. The same applies to anything else you do with this sword. You can have the most advanced chi manipulation on the planet, but without the proper blood price the sword demands, you will never be able to utilize its full potential. Are you fine with that?"

Blade struggled to stand, but picked himself up nonetheless. His arms felt like they were about to fall off, and his legs were as heavy as iron. The toll of using such a strong divine attack was immense, the vampire blood within himself notwithstanding. "You know I am." He retorted smugly, giving Kyle a weak punch on his shoulder. The Ninjutsu black belt smiled back, but was still greatly disappointed in him.

"Listen Blade, I can clean and sharpen this weapon to absolute perfection, but that will only affect its external appearance. If the metal in the blade is rusting from within due to your failings as its contractor, then sooner or later you will either break it, or it will not cut for you, and in your line of work, that will spell out your end." Kyle was pleading in his own way, but he was also asking Blade to kill a human, something he would never agree with. He could plead for 1,000 years, but as long as Blade's mind was sharp, even if his weapon failed him, he'd find a way to make things work. He had done so until now, and he would stay on that path. Blade's end was coming someday, and when it arrived, he would be no less prepared than he was now.

The new, fresh blood on his tongue shocked him awake, bulging his muscles generously and snapping him out of the flashback. Though panic had come surging to his brain in abundance a few minutes earlier, it had long since run its course. Blade stood from his crouched position on the floor and evaporated into a cloud of black mist, arriving in their hotel room half a second later. With just his eyes, he was packing three bags, two for Aisha and Onyx, and the final for himself. Once that was done, Blade had but to imagine a searing flame, and the lights in the room burst, a spark igniting Onyx's bed first, turning it into crackling cinders. Blade concentrated even harder, and within a minute, the entire room was black and golden orange.

Within the next split second, Blade was outside, listening to the screams of those who had woken up inside, immolated. Since they weren't exactly in a high-class district (in fact, it was quite the opposite) the hotel did not have smoke detectors, and those indoors that were happily dreaming soon awoke to a fatal nightmare. Even from the few rooms that were on the ground floor, Blade saw no one exit the building. Walking away from the destruction, Blade knew that no help would come. The building would be burning until the fire naturally ran out of material to consume, and the charred corpse of the bloody innkeeper inside would just be one of the many bodies that would never be identified. As far as the act had gone, he was home free, but the guilt would sit with him forever.

Blade snapped his fingers, able to somehow cause a new trench coat to cover his bulky shoulders. The bloody mess that had been his face and torso disintegrated, leaving behind his natural scruff. The most comfortable combat boots protected his feet with steel-toed ends, and an invisible layer of Kevlar shielded his chest. Behind him, the early morning crowd was starting to form around the hotel, people crying for help in a foreign language he could barely understand. Blade wanted to laugh, but he did not. Blade kept a watchful eye on the rooftops of the small town, deliberately ignoring the dozens of red irises he could count watching him, and those who had crowded around the burning building. Pretty soon, there'd be a bloodbath, for foolish vampires would soon attempt to defy the oncoming sun to fill their bellies.

"What happened man? Why's the hotel on fire?" Blade almost knocked Onyx over when their shoulders collided. For a moment, Blade didn't even recognize him. The man was unusually pale, and had several fresh cuts on his face that still flared angrily. His clothes were dirty and there even seemed something slightly different about the way he walked.

"I was attacked. The first thing they did was light the building on fire, hoping to trap us inside. I'm sure it was Vladimir." Blade noted how easily Onyx soaked up the information, accepting the lies as truth without question. He wondered if Aisha was as easily influenced. Perhaps he would try his hand at it later.

"So was I. You can't even get a fucking drink in this place without someone wanting you dead man, fuck. Hey, maybe one day I'll be as famous as you around here huh?" James offered him a short smile. Despite his disheveled appearance, he was completely at ease. Blade gave him props for that.

"Maybe," Blade laughed back, though his eyes were still focused forward. His eyes were fixated on the castle, and the extensive hike that they would soon be taking in order to reach it.

"Aisha's still gone; do you think she'll be alright? The sun's breaking the horizon right now isn't it?" True to his word, a searing blade of sunlight crested the horizon, making Onyx shield his eyes with his hand as a visor. Blade tossed him a backpack, and he caught it, doing a quick search of the contents inside. There were weapons inside for him, a change of clothes, and other miscellaneous items like a tent included as well.

"Everything you'll need is inside; I packed emergency items in case we were attacked in the night, looks like it paid off." Blade spoke, suddenly unconcerned about Aisha's affairs. If she wanted to play such a dangerous game with him, then he'd even put her in the dirt if he had to.

Aisha chuckled as he followed her, chasing her around the limited space in the suite styled like her motherland. She no longer had any idea what the fuck they were doing, but they had drawn the curtains shut, and he was now chasing her around naked, calling her pet names and laughing his head off. She was happy. When Jonathan caught her from behind, he picked her up by the waist and spun her into a circle; she was overjoyed.

"Let me down, let me down!" She warned him, but he wouldn't listen. Feeling his broad chest against her lean back was bringing heat to the surface again in places that were already melting, and she wouldn't be able to take it much longer. It was astonishing to her that they'd spent all of this time playing around, neither of them making the leap over the edge, but simply enjoying each other's company and relishing it in their nudity. When he set her down on her feet, she placed her ankle behind his and pushed, successfully flooring him once again, his head landing dangerously close to the cemented perimeter of the man-made pond. They were right back where they started, but she was ready to take it to the next step. She wanted to feel all of him.

"I'm ready Ai, is that enough of an invitation for you?" He joked, slapping her breasts lightly, making her frown with the cutest pout. She crossed her arms over them, though it did little to hide the ample skin she was still revealing. There was something even sexier to him about her concealing herself, than when she was absolutely nude. He was falling hard.

"Enjoy it while you can, because that's the last time you'll say my name tonight without screaming." She guaranteed, leaning forward to bite his lower lip sensually. Her perky breasts brushed across his dark nipples, making him moan, a deep and animalistic noise, which turned her on even more. She undulated her hips against his groin one final time, before taking the plunge.

She screamed.

A burn from a stray beam of sunlight, in the shape of a star, seared her right foot, so she instantly rolled over, splashing into the pond with another scream, leaving Syfy alone. At the same time, the doorway burst open, revealing eight heavily armed agents aiming pistols in every direction, determined to find her.

"What the hell is this?" Syfy yelled, standing to his feet without a shred of dignity. While he could tell the men appreciated his backbone, they ignored him, blasting silver bullets into the pond, carelessly shattering priceless objects around the room as they each trained their eyes on a moving shadow. Syfy called out to Ai, but the only response was the tearing of the wind that formed within his suite, throwing electronics and furniture around hazardously in the air. The men fanned out to avoid flying objects, but the scene changed morbidly as soon as their formation did.

Aisha tore into a man's leg, ripping it off with her saber sharp fangs. The man dropped to the floor incapacitated, so she shoved a kitchen knife into his neck, rudely extracting it to remove the fingers of the other seven men. While the first man choked on his blood, the seven survivors could only watch in horror since they could not fire their guns, barely possessing the ability to crawl away. The door slammed shut and locked behind the weight of a full armoire, sealing each of their fates within the vicinity. Aisha went to work on the intruders with the serrated knife, moving faster than a blur through the room, still flinging furniture around because of her acceleration. When the last corpse fell to eternal damnation, Aisha flew out of the hotel, and rocketed her way back to Thailand, searching for Blade's signature aura. It wouldn't be hard to find, but the sun was rising fast, putting her on a strict time limit.

Anger and rage propelled her forward, as she dodged the increasing sunlight as best as she could. With blood fresh in her veins, she found Blade faster, and though he was away from the hotel, she knew he was headed toward Vladimir's castle.

"There's a hooded cloak for you in your backpack," Blade mentioned, holding out his hand as a gust of wind carried the knapsack away. It took a few minutes, but even though they kept walking, Aisha emerged from behind a fruit stand, the rage still quite fresh on her face. The backpack had offered her little more than a bra and some sweats, but it was better than being naked in a cloak.

"Don't ask." She muttered, strolling ahead of the men. With every other step, her left foot shot pain signals to her brain, and her foot was as raw as it was annoying to have to deal with. She had to have had the worst luck of any vampire she knew. All too soon, she missed Syfy's gentle caresses, his musical laughter, and how he had the ability to turn pure silence into something magical. They didn't have to speak a word to each other, but could communicate everything with a glance, a touch, or a kiss. Now she was off to meet her mother. My, how quickly the atmosphere could change.

"What's got her blushing? Do you think she was out hunting for men instead of blood?" Onyx teased, pounding Blade's fist. Blade was no stranger to the scents of lust, especially since he'd smelled them on Aisha such a short time ago back at the Van Helsings' hospital. Aisha didn't hear the comment, but was lost in her own mind, replaying those sexy, carefree moments with Jonathan in her head, which she would cherish as absolute treasures. There was no telling when it'd ever happen again, especially with _him_. _What was he doing on this side of the world anyway?_

The back of the van opened, pouring sunlight into the bed of the van. One by one, Keiji and his partners were hoisted onto a pair of shoulders, and then thrown into makeshift jail cells with rusty bars. Escaping them would be terribly easy, but he was waiting on Warwolf's call as well. They'd been taken into the mountains near the center of the island, and couldn't be more than a few hours on foot away from the castle, which was an excellent move on Warwolf and Kaiser's part. Purposefully allowing themselves to be captured had saved them the fatigue of further travel on foot, and had provided a small clue about Kryzon. The only question was, where was this man that was supposedly selling werewolf blood?

"Four new ones for you Skeeter, what should we do with them?" Keiji watched the man with a Mohawk address an even sloppier dressed teenager with a biker's vest and suspenders on. If Keiji couldn't do it himself, he was quite sure the fashion police would slap the shit out of the boss.

"They say they're mercenaries traveling together eh? Well let's shoot one of them. Take the black one with the short hair and glasses. His ugly mug pisses me off. Oh and Brian, name's Mr. Skeeter, don't forget it."

Keiji flinched when Brian came to his cell and unlocked it. He looked Kaiser's way for direction, but received only what was painfully obvious. Don't get shot. Brian shoved him in the back, knocking him down to the dirt. His wrists and ankles were bound by thick rope, but the knots were embarrassingly weak. He hoped the rest of the gang members were as dumb as Brian was. Hell, based on the verbal exchange that had happened a little while ago, he already knew that to be true. This would be a cinch.

More of the gang members left ramshackle cottages to join in the massive circle that surrounded Keiji. They had taken him to a sandy pit, not too far away from where the jail cells were. As he looked around at the members, he noted that only Brian was permitted by Skeeter to hold a firearm, which was a dirty, but powerful Model 48 Smith and Wesson.

"You live and you die as a mercenary black bastard! Not that you'd have had much of a fightin' chance in the first place against me!" The words struck a nerve deep within Keiji's heart, but he didn't move. Upon the formation of the circle of gang members present to watch his execution, they'd forced him to kneel with his head pointed at the ground.

"I'll permit it. If you are as strong as you say, then prove yourself Brian. A dog without teeth is more useless to me than a dog that cannot bark, not the other way around." Skeeter had two men untie Keiji, and for the first time he saw fear in Brian's eyes. This wasn't an assault on drunkards, this was a brawl with a man twice his size. Keiji flexed his wrists and stretched his arms. Skeeter snatched the revolver back without a word, and shoved Brian into the center of the fight circle. The crowd began taunting Keiji with verbal insults. He didn't care; he was itching to fight this prick.

Keiji landed a heavy-handed right hook that he swore dislodged three of Brian's teeth. Shortly after, Keiji hooked his arms around Brian's head with a Muay Thai grip, refusing to let him fall just yet. Next, he rammed his knee into Brian's face, and his opponent fell like a rock, blood spilling everywhere.

"You're pathetic." Skeeter insulted. "What man among you will take Brian's place as a leader among men?"

The next fighter entered the circle, a roughneck hick from Australia with bigger muscles. There was a lot less jeering from the crowd now, as the realization of Brian's defeat rippled through them like a water droplet on a puddle. They had been serving directly under a weakling for years, and he went down in less than a quarter of a minute? It was embarrassing. Was their entire group a front?

"I ain't think he was fit to clean boots anyway," The man spat, flashing a tattoo of a skull and crossbones on his left bicep. Keiji was not impressed. Again, he did some basic stretching, this time flexing some muscles in his legs and abdomen. He could sense motion coming from the jail cells, so he figured he'd put on quite a show for the circle of onlookers. As wise as he seemed, Skeeter was still too stupid to leave the locked cells guarded, which meant that if he made enough ruckus, Sutonokami would escape during this fight.

"Come at me bro," Keiji taunted, waving his hand at the muscleman. He charged at Keiji, which was a really stupid move. Keiji's left fist rocketed through the air, blocked by a fat arm, which shielded his foe's abnormally large head. Keiji followed with a predictable knee strike, which his foe deflected by bringing his elbows together. Keiji saw his chance and initiated a powerful sweep kick, but his foe jumped straight over it.

"Are you done? Because I can start wrecking you now if you'd like," The Australian's trash talk revitalized the circle, which started up with their dreadful cheering again. Keiji still held his cool despite the situation. This was just the raucous yelling that he needed to provide ample distraction for his team to escape.

"Any time you're ready, fat boy." Keiji's provocation was perfectly timed. His assailant flung his arms around him, attempting a throw, but Keiji was too fast. Adjusting his torso, he spun out of the hold, and then clocked the man on the left cheek with the side of his balled up fist, using momentum from the spin to make the blow twice as forceful. This time, when the giant staggered, Keiji's sweep was successful, the Australian's body crashing down into the brown earth bringing up a small cloud of dust. Members of the circle practically pulled out their hair at his defeat; they were so upset. In the back, Skeeter nodded with respect.

"This is the kind of man you all should be!" Skeeter roared, drawing all eyes on him. The crowd was dumbstruck, especially when the back of an elbow crushed into Skeeter's gut, making him go unconscious at the end of his sentence. The men erupted into disorganized chaos afterward.

Fists, beer bottles, spit and teeth flew every which way as Sutonokami fought through the masses, making sure that any weapon within reach was swiftly taken care of. Even Warwolf was pulling out a few martial arts moves of his own, shocking the opponents who were decades younger than himself when they went down after his techniques. The fight seemed well in their favor until a new group arrived, wearing shining armor reminiscent of Spartan military uniforms.

"Leave no man walking. Kill them all." The chief, who was situated atop a great, white horse, ordered his men forward with the point of a regal blade, and there was blood everywhere. It started as a grisly one-sided fight between unarmed punks and trained army soldiers, but then fangs burst from every mouth and drained the helpless thugs dry. They were trained vampire militia, out in clear daylight.

"We retreat." Kaiser spoke with finality, refusing to stay rooted to the spot like a deer in headlights. Keiji and Warwolf agreed with him, although Lucien wanted to stay and fight. However, upon recounting their numbers, he had no choice but to fall in line with his leader's decision. There were close to a hundred of the soldiers, and a small group of teenagers running around like chickens without heads wouldn't last them long. Utilizing the uproar to their advantage, the wolves were able to sneak back into the forest undetected, but greatly perplexed.

"This is not good," Warwolf mused, shifting back into his stronger wolf form without a problem. "If they're hunting in direct daylight, then that armor is the only thing protecting them from turning into ash. The fact that they're bold enough to do this attests to the strength of their loyalty to Vladimir."

"We don't have our weapons, what are we supposed to do? If these guys are guarding the castle grounds in broad daylight, we're going to run into some trouble without any munitions to use against them." Keiji reasoned, while everyone stopped at an opening in the forest to catch their breath from sprinting. They couldn't smell any vampires coming after them, but they did not stop looking out for them just in case.

"So we wait, circle back and retrieve as much weaponry as possible, then return to advancing on the castle. Using anything we can find at the base, especially when we find Skeeter's residence, we'll sniff out this seller along the way and gut him for information." Kaiser instructed, waving his hands out at the group.

"Kaiser needs our help now!" Lucien yelled, taking a threatening step towards Kaiser. "He's one of us, and now that we know for sure that he's alive, we can't waste time lollygagging. These vampires could kill him at any time; obviously, he must be under surveillance because he stopped his communication with us! If they have him locked away, we need to get there now."

"Back off Lucien," Kaiser warned, a feral look forming in his eyes. The group remained in dead silence while some of Kaiser's features started to change, the difference in his heterochromia eyes blazing. Lucien didn't back down, but he wasn't ready to surrender either, so he stood his ground, daring Kaiser to challenge him. "Fine, let's do it your way. If we die, we die. Our blood is on your hands Lucien." Kaiser shifted into his werewolf form and took off back toward the camp, alarm bells going off in each of the wolves' respective minds. Lucien grinned, his vitality restored by Kaiser's words alone. He took off in an adrenaline guided sprint after Kaiser, leaving Keiji and Warwolf alone in the small circle of light within the woods.

Warwolf turned to Keiji, respectfully bowing his head to the troubled man. His all-knowing eyes looked directly into Keiji's soul for the smallest of moments, before he opened his mouth to speak. Keiji could swear he saw purple fumes emanating from his elder's mouth, a testament to Warwolf's deep connection with the cosmos. "The day will come when this pack belongs to you, be very careful Keiji." Warwolf then turned tail and darted after the first two, Keiji eyeing the silver pelt with curiosity. It was true, according to the natural law, he was the Beta of the pack, and would assume command if Kaiser died, but he didn't even think he could do that at this juncture. He hadn't forgotten about his wife, whom Jade still held in captivity. It hurt his heart to think about her.

Since the last time he'd seen Jade, he hadn't gotten a step closer to finding her son's killer. Despite the legions of vampires whose ashes he was tasked with finding for Vizuela on a weekly basis, there was no one who he could think of that was even connected to the fifteen-year-old case. Keiji would have given up long ago, except that meant giving up on the only woman that he had ever loved, and Keiji wasn't about to do that. He remembered Minerva's words after he'd interrogated her about Kryzon. If he could recall correctly, she'd mentioned Sterk's name, one of the top three bounty hunters in Vizuela, but could he have really killed a baby despite his deviant reputation? He remembered Minerva directly incriminating Sterk for the offense, but personally with the tournament and finding Kryzon, he hadn't had the time to seriously investigate the accused. Keiji had no time to scrutinize that accusation further, because Sterk was back in the United States, and he had no way of knowing if the bounty hunter had even remained in Vizuela after the massive vampire attacks and destruction. If he had the choice, he wouldn't stay in the Nexus, so why would Sterk? He supposed that once they rescued Kryzon, he could ask Joe about it, but that too would be a gamble. Class-S mercenaries could choose to remain in the shadows and off the grid for years at a time, and Joe would never violate Vizuela's code if Sterk had made such a decision. Keiji reached into his pocket, extracting a golden locket containing the only photo of his African queen that he still had in his possession. One day she'd be free. One day he'd be free.

Syfy quickly got dressed, replacing his suitcase and keeping his ultraviolet sword nearby at his hip in pocketknife form. He didn't even bother calling Yuki, because he was sure that the agents' deaths had already registered, and that Yuki would be sending more shortly. If he didn't get this job done soon, Yuki would probably have him killed as if it were nothing, again reinforcing Syfy's earlier theories. Yuki had never been a fair and just boss, but he also didn't miss any details, great or small. When he hopped off the elevator into the luxurious lobby pointlessly lit up by crystal chandeliers in bright sunlight, he found that Carolyn was no longer working the desk. Instead, there was a man replacing her, with a thick mustache and a toupee atop his head. The scene was even more suspicious, given that no one had reported the gunshots on his floor yet, and Syfy seriously doubted that those pistols the dead agents had used were silenced ones.

"What can I do for you sir?" The man asked, addressing him with closed eyes and a slight bow. Syfy ignored the formality, now even more suspicious of his surroundings. For a luxury hotel, spa and lounge, Oasis was far too quiet. Syfy glanced at his watch, noting that it was definitely check out time for the hotel, but there wasn't another soul in sight, save the man at the front desk. Last night, he'd seen at least a dozen others before checking into his suite. Something was amiss.

"I need an off road vehicle, as soon as possible. I believe you know the sort of specifications I have in mind." Robotically, the man accepted his shiny black credit card, entering it into the system with carefully calculated button presses. The ordeal took upwards of five minutes, compared to Carolyn's thirty seconds.

"Yes I believe we had one on order for you about thirty minutes ago, your driver should be waiting for you in the garage. Take the elevator two floors down, and he should be already there."

Syfy snatched the card back, and ducked inside the elevator before there were any more sudden surprises. With a hand in his pocket on the knife, he tried taking deep, calming breaths, but found it extremely difficult. What was happening to him, and why was his life suddenly being pulled every which way? With no time to think or formulate a strategy, Syfy tried again to reach Dr. Rashidli through her cell phone. Any reliable outside help would be welcome at that point. He listened patiently as the tone rang and rang. There was no answer.

As the elevator door opened, Syfy warily eyed the murky garage, finding dozens of parked cars, but there were no human in sight. When he turned around to get back into the elevator, his foot hit something, which jingled as it skidded across the concrete. It turned out to be a pair of car keys. Slowly, while eyeing his surroundings, Syfy stooped to pick up the keys. There was nothing special about them; they were simple copper keys with numbers engraved into their centers. Syfy was ready to accept them as ordinary, but then noticed the red Dodge Ram 2500 that appeared behind him, without a driver, or so much as a sound. The truck was so close that he could reach out and touch the shiny new coating of paint. As nerve wracking as it was, Syfy started the vehicle and burned rubber to leave the hotel grounds, advancing on the castle at a breakneck speed. It only took him about fifteen minutes to reach the small town that surrounded the castle walls, where he had no choice left but to park in one of the designated parking areas. He seriously doubted the werewolf would be on public display, so entering the castle was the most logical choice.

"You look hungry sir; can I offer you a cheeseburger? Or a coffee, I've got brand new beans to grind!" Syfy averted his eyes and continued his stroll through the cobblestone streets while the merchant yelled at him some more. He really wished he could just roll over everything with the truck, but he also knew that drawing attention to himself would be very very foolish, considering that he was still on a supposed island of vampires. There was something surreal about this entire place that scared him down to his bones. There were still no vampires anywhere, and given that it was only natural in the daylight, Syfy still expected there to be eyes watching him at every given moment in the shadows, whether vampires or Yuki's men. There was little difference. His consistent paranoia made his advance slower and less focused, as precious time slipped beneath his fingers every four seconds when he checked behind himself to ensure that no one was following him. Jonathan passed more vendors offering a variety of fried goods, toys and services like shoe shining, refusing to pay any of them money or attention. His stomach was far from full, but he was too paranoid to accept any mean he was offered. Thoughts of Yuki were eating away at the back of his mind, giving his boss a presence in the darkness that didn't even exist. Plus he'd now dragged Ai into this? He couldn't blame her for storming away. Syfy's unreasonable fear did not stop until he reached the castle walls, where a tour guide offered him a colorful pamphlet with a map of the bastion's points of interest.

"Would you like a guided tour of the grounds? You look like a refined young gentleman; may I suggest the deluxe package? You'll be able to eat a luxurious mean in the marvelous great hall while enjoying the full history of this grand castle, complete with an elaborate play reenacting the first battle ever fought on these grounds and a souvenir for your troubles." Syfy brushed her off and entered the castle alone, a sudden yapping noise driving him completely insane. Was there any place on this island where people weren't constantly screaming at each other?

"The answers are underground, beneath the knight statue, look to the horse! They're underground I tell you, the whole stinking lot of em! Vampires hate the knights!"

Syfy hadn't taken two steps off the gated drawbridge when he observed security guards in too tight blue uniforms running after a man dressed in only his trousers. The two of them were screaming curses at the indecent man and waving nightsticks, while radioing for more help. If Jonathan hadn't been listening seriously to the stranger's words, he would've found the ordeal quite hilarious.

Syfy gazed at the map provided by the tour guide, paying special attention to the statues marked with bright pink numbers. Despite appearing grandiose, the castle was very small, only containing living quarters, a dining hall, a dungeon and a well-tended courtyard, which overflowed with beautiful flowers every color of the rainbow. Hedges that were seven feet tall ran stylishly through the precisely cut lawn, forming a maze that was a popular place for tourists. Looking closer at the map, there were only two statues that could possibly be knights (for every statue listed was inspired by the game of chess), one at the end of the maze, and one in the depths of the dungeons below. Opting for convenience, Syfy chose to take on the maze, which proved much more time consuming than he'd initially hoped. Though he passed four people while trapped within the hedge, he was the only one who made it to the end.

There was a large brass horse sculpture double his height positioned on a platform just the right size for a door, now looming over him. The statue's detailed eyes silently congratulated his victory over the maze. With no one around to stop him, Syfy gave the statue a closer inspection, and was rewarded with the discovery of a small switch partially buried under a groove in the platform's western side. He flicked it immediately.

The vampire that dashed out from behind the door that had formed at the platform's base burned instantly, muted screams turning into a small fire, which would no doubt eat away at the lawn. Making a split second decision, Syfy jumped over the conflagration, rolling his way into the secret door, which shut behind him, enveloping him in complete darkness. Though he was not unprepared for such a situation, Syfy took a minute to catch his breath before activating the filaments within his sword, which illuminated a dank, narrow hallway that slanted at a ten-degree angle downward.

Syfy shoved the map sloppily into his jeans pocket, knowing that it wasn't of any use to him anymore. He also knew that as soon as the door shut behind him, that he was trapped, and that he would not be able to move the stone wall which replaced the camouflaged door he'd entered. Which slightly shaky hands, Syfy continued his descent, immediately picking up on the drastic temperature change and the thinness of the air. As he walked, Syfy found himself listening closely to the sounds of water droplets falling from the ceiling, meters away, making sure not to breathe too loudly, should his breaths give away his position. He imagined that the place he was approaching was packed with vampires, but he couldn't figure out why one of them had chosen to chance sunlight for a chance to escape. Was there an underground city down here? Would he end up running for his life as well? If it came down to it, would he rather die than become the creature he hated the most?

After walking for fifteen minutes, Syfy's legs grew tired, and his eyelids heavy. He didn't remember when, but instead of his slow shuffling, there was gunfire around him that shocked him to his senses. He had to act now, or a family would die.

"What do we do, there's a child there?" Rafi informed him. Rafi was rough around the edges, but an orphan just like him who'd chosen to enlist in the military instead of wait for fortune and good luck to drop into his lap. Syfy clutched his assault rifle a little closer and tried weighing options in his head. There was an important family inside the house not fifteen feet from them, but a child no greater than five was pacing the front of the building, eyes far too alert for there not to be a threat. Syfy knew there was a bomb involved. They needed to kill whoever had the detonator; it was a classic enemy tactic to draw them out. They could not fall for it. If the bomb went off, it would kill the child and the family inside the house, and he'd get chewed out for weeks because of it. If the bomb didn't go off, they could still be picked off by snipers or surrounded by the enemy. Syfy needed a concrete strategy.

"You're going to have to trust me on this one Rafi. I need you to run straight for the child. As soon as you get to the kid, remove the vest, and I'll handle the rest." Syfy's gaze was unwavering, but that alone wasn't enough to assure the younger soldier. Rafi was of an equivalent rank after all.

"What the fuck? You want me to run straight for a bomb, while there's a sniper ready to pick me off as soon as I pop my head up? Tell me you've got something better planned than that? I mean, I know you'll die too at this distance if the bomb does go off, but I think I'd rather die with something on my tombstone other than, the dumbass who ran directly into an obvious trap."

"Three seconds," Syfy whispered, lobbing a flash grenade into the air, kick starting the plan. Rafi didn't have time to think, or curse him, so he just moved, running from behind the barrels in the exact opposite direction that Syfy did. As expected, the sniper popped out from a virtually invisible tree stand, and Syfy picked him off with two shots to the chest. The child, completely befuddled by the brightness of the flash grenade, lay on the ground, disoriented, while Rafi tossed him the volatile jacket. Syfy set to work right away, the only knowledge available to him from the training simulations he'd repeated thousands of times back at the base. Just because one sniper was dead didn't mean a replacement wasn't already on the way. To make matters worse, if someone else picked up the detonator, they could still activate it, killing them all regardless. Syfy concentrated harder, the correct instructions ingrained in his skull so deep that he had no doubts about cutting the right wires once he'd identified the type of explosives used. "Secure the perimeter Rafi. If there were other snipers, we'd be dead by now." Syfy cracked him a grin. The young Indian man simply nodded and followed orders, disappearing around the back of the house, eyes down his metal sights.

Syfy buried the disarmed explosives, and then knocked on the door. As expected, there was no reply, and an eerie silence inside. He took it as a good thing that Rafi hadn't fired any rounds yet, and decided to press his luck further. With a well-placed kick, the door flew off its hinges, and Syfy entered the house forcefully, somersaulting over the base of the door, should there be a tripwire there, gun drawn. His eyes scanned what appeared to be a normal living room and then a kitchen. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, and then he noticed that there, underneath the dining room table in plain sight, were seven people huddled together, scared for their lives. There was still steam coming from their neatly set table dinners. He lowered his weapon.

"Nadira no! He could be one of them, stop!" The mother reached out her hand, but she could not stop a beautiful young lady around Syfy's age from running from beneath the table and into his arms. He was confused beyond all get out, but the teenager refused to let go, crying into his armored chest without concern of her health. Good thing his gun was on safety.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you. They would have killed my entire family. I cannot thank you enough for what you've done for us." Nadira wiped her nose and smiled at him, somehow managing to steal his breath away. When Rafi entered the front door behind him, also cautiously examining for a tripwire, he was just as confused at the scene, doing a once over with his sub machine gun, making everyone anxious all over again.

"Have no worries ma'am; we're going to get you out of here. There's a rescue chopper on its way as we speak. We are not the enemy, we're from America, 32nd platoon, and we can get you somewhere safe, where you don't have to worry about being attacked any longer." Syfy looked down upon the beautiful young lady and smiled back at her, while she assured her five sisters and her mother that everything was alright in Arabic, still gingerly wrapped around his torso.

"You'd make great husband material for my daughter young man." Twenty minutes later, Belinda Rashidli spoke to him over the roar of the great chopper. Syfy sat next to her in the back seat, Rafi and the rest of the family taking a plane back to the states instead. For whatever the reason, Yuki had placed the Rashidli family in protective custody, even going so far as to set them up with a duplex in California. His boss was strange at times.

"I'm a military man ma'am. I doubt I'll ever have time to settle down and have a family of my own. I'm too busy serving my country."

"We'll see young man. We'll see. Nadira's smart, you know. I wouldn't doubt that one day she'll be underneath a computer somewhere working for an American research lab like her granny did. The catwalk will only keep her for so long, and her brains go far beyond fashion. She's so talented." Syfy watched a knowing glint light up the middle-aged woman's eyes. Her brown skin shined with an old-fashioned beauty that she'd definitely passed down to the next generation. Still, Syfy couldn't imagine a future without guns and war, because the unfortunate truth of the world was that there was always a conflict between different people in different places. It would never change.

"We'll see." He mimicked.

Syfy came to his senses painfully, crashing into what appeared to be a door made of rotted wood. Using his ultraviolet knife for lighting, he was able to find a wobbly doorknob and open it; however, he merely was confronted with three stairwells, each traveling downward at the same angle in different directions. Would the descent ever end? He raised his weapon, transforming it into a long katana, substantially increasing the size of the portable light source. For the left and right stairwell, there were dangerous areas of stone broken off, which would probably result in a drop into a pitfall. The center stairwell was undamaged as far as he could tell, but was still a much better bet for advancing forward. Prepared for a trap, Syfy carefully began the trek downward, almost tripping a few times. Why in the hell was he so drowsy?

"Listen Syfy, you're not in trouble, and neither is Trigger. I called you both here to talk about important company matters, and to congratulate you both on your prowess on the battlefield during this war. While only lasting six months, the casualties on our side were heavy, easily in the millions. As you have seen, vampires are very real, and your part in helping us push back their numbers has been seen and recognized worldwide. If you wouldn't mind Syfy, I would like to address each of you individually to administer my personal thanks. You may wait outside my office.

"Yes sir." Jonathan responded dully, not sure what was coming. He could never forget the pain that this war had wrought upon his head, for not only had the lives of fellow soldiers been lost, his fiancée had reportedly also been taken captive by Blade, while he was overseas, and the Daywalker's current whereabouts were as they always were: unknown.

Yuki sat down in the only chair in the room, the ornate one behind his extra wide desk, which was polished so well that it reflected like a mirror. He made a tent in front of his face with his hands, and then turned his glare upon Trigger. "What happened back there with Blade? I want every detail. That cabin was supposed to be empty, what the fuck was a woman doing there? In addition, Jonathan was stationed eight thousand miles away, so why, pray tell would his fiancée be alone, in a cabin situated in the middle of a fucking battleground?"

Trigger hang his head, setting his jaw hard. It was just like Yuki to do something like this, to put on a façade in front of Syfy for a supposed praise, but instead use it to conduct a surprise interrogation on him. Trigger was almost shocked that there weren't bodyguards in the room as well, though giving his peripherals a quick once over, he couldn't exactly be sure that they weren't. Yuki's office was quite spacious, and did offer many shady corners as well. If Trigger had to guess, he would also say that the room was soundproof, sealing away their argument within. "We arrived at 15:28pm just as specified; I was the first point of contact after Blade. When I entered the stronghold, there was one dead civilian and an empty home. I stopped to ask the Daywalker the details and he took the body and ran. Mission objectives prioritized the capture and control over that building, so I left the Daywalker and did as I was told. Duty before heroism, always."

"What are you not telling me Trigger? If that is the truth, then it is not the whole truth! If I find you are lying, then I will discharge you from service, despite your eligibility in this promotion. So what's it going to be? The new Nexus branch of SPECS needs an _honest, _technologically sound and war-hardened leader. Will it be you?" Yuki ended with a long pause, watching the wheels turn in Trigger's head. There was defiance in his body language, but he knew that Trigger could see reason. He only had to wait.

Trigger wasn't going to rat out Blade. He didn't know why he felt the need to protect a vampire slaying body snatcher, but he would do so regardless. He saw the fang marks in Syfy's fiancée's neck as clear as day, the woman was not dead; she was going to turn. Knowing Blade's famous quirk for protecting humans and refusing to drink their blood, Trigger knew that there was an unknown factor at play, prompting Blade's actions and forcing his hand on that day. Blade had his reasons for turning her, just as he had his reasons for protecting that secret. It wasn't for Blade's benefit; it was for his own. He pondered Yuki's options, but despite the promises, he could see there were other, darker motives at work for this sudden elevation of status. Yuki wasn't as clean cut a president as he appeared, and Trigger knew his hands were muddied with dirt from all around the world. Yuki Naga was no saint. Likewise, Trigger wouldn't fall into the temptation of position and power, so he'd have to turn down the promotion. It wasn't too much of a consequence to him. As soon as he hit the states once more, he could just return to his home in El Paso and see family again. It wouldn't be so hard of a life. "I'm telling you the truth Yuki kakka. Had I known the woman was his fiancée, I could have intervened, leaving the rest of the team to secure the stronghold, but how could I know who she was or how she died? She was dead the moment I arrived; I could not have prevented her death regardless. Why Blade took the body, I'll never know. I'm in the dark just like you are."

"Oh but you're not." Yuki hissed back, his eyes gleaming with malice. "That's perfectly fine with me. Trigger, you are hereby stripped of your position, and will lose all benefits entitled to you for your years of service. I have also blacklisted you for any flights to Texas from any place in the world, internationally. Mail sent anywhere in that state from you will immediately destroyed, and we do have your family's addresses on file to monitor any anonymous letters sent to any of them. Don't worry; your family will be under protective watch for the time being. We wouldn't want Blade tracking them down as well, would we?" Yuki's smug look made his face increasingly more serpentine by the second. So naturally, like a snake, Trigger wanted to lop his head off.

Red filled Trigger's usually pale face as fury took control. Though he wasn't thinking clearly, he did notice that there were three other men in the room, guns training lasers in the center of his forehead should he dare to move. "I've told you what I know. Why are you doing this? First, I lose the promotion and now this? You know I'm better qualified for the title! I've been serving in the military for a decade over Syfy and now I'm about to have my position handed over to this kid because I'm telling the truth? You're about to cut back all of the benefits I've rightfully earned over these years on a hunch? What kind of bullshit is that? I earned that money! Also, what does my family have to do with anything? Don't tell me some bullshit about Blade fucking tracking them down, why are you stopping me from seeing them? You can't do this!" His fists were shaking with rage by the time he finished speaking, but he didn't take a step. Sweat was forming along his back, and would soon be visible through his cotton button up shirt.

"You're charged with aiding both a vigilante and a terrorist with secondary charges of treason, on the very grounds of the USA during a crucial battle in which all of humanity could have been eradicated. Let's not even consider withholding information, sabotaging an investigation and an assisted kidnapping. I could have you executed a thousand times over for these crimes against the country. Do you remember Pearl Harbor, one hundred and four years ago? What do you think the US government would do if they found out a pilot flying for the Japanese during that time period was now trying to pass himself off as an honorable citizen of the very country he committed war crimes against?"

"They were kamikaze pilots, that wouldn't happen. Are you implying that I'm somehow connected to the plight of _your people_?" Yuki slapped the taste out of his mouth in a swift move that Trigger hadn't even seen. Before two seconds after the end of his sentence, he was flat on his ass. It wouldn't be the first time his mouth had landed him in a serious pile of shit.

"Consider yourself lucky to still be standing. Get out of my sight. Send Syfy in after you, I'm sure he'll be happy to accept his new position. Trigger cursed under his breath, trudging out of the room with a nasty look on his face. When the young buck stood up to enter Yuki's office, Trigger brusquely shoved him, leaving without an explanation. He couldn't believe this shit; Yuki would pay for doing this to him.

"Congratulations Syfy, you're the new head of SPECS Nexus. I see great things in your future. With your military knowledge and technological genius, I wouldn't be surprised if you changed the world there." Yuki smiled, blowing the younger soldier's mind.

Shivering at another drop in temperature, Syfy finally made his way down the remainder of the stairs. The visions had come and gone with a snap, leaving him only slightly confounded, with a pounding headache. When he could focus forward again on reality, he walked into a large, one-room expanse that reminded him of a cathedral, complete with fancy pews, a pulpit and an altar, above which there was a deity statue of a vampire lord. He had to be getting closer to the werewolf he was tasked with executing.

"Do you like what you see interloper?" Jonathan whipped his head around to face the owner of the feminine voice, but all he saw was a dark wave of energy, and then he fell to the floor unconscious.

The fire was a telltale sign that shit was already going down. As soon as Blade saw the castle ablaze, people screaming their heads off like never before, he was gone, making a beeline for the burning edifice. Using his nose, he led Aisha and Onyx down to the depths of the castle's interior, down to the dimly lit dungeons, where torches hang on the walls to illuminate the path. Aisha complained about the foul smell, but that was the last thing on his mind. When Blade slashed the gigantic horse statue in two, vampires spilled out of the hidden doorway, but he was leagues ahead of them.

"Try to keep up you two!" Blade called, descending into the darkness swiftly, somehow managing to make the three-foot expanse work for him and his sword. Blade's moves scattered ashes left and right. Admittedly, Aisha had to run behind Onyx due to the unforgiving length of her blades, taking cover behind his controlled spray of special bullets, should Blade skip any vampire. After ten minutes, the downward slope leveled off, revealing a room with an extremely high ceiling and sandy-shaded walls made of stone that reminded them of pyramids. There were three walkways to choose from, each leading into its own dank hallway, where there was no lighting whatsoever. There were only a few options for them here.

"Should we split up?" Onyx asked, double-checking the empty room for stray moving shadows. Surprisingly, even though torchlight flickered bright enough for them all to see the expanse perfectly, the room was quiet and empty. In fact, when Onyx turned his head again, everyone was gone, and he wasn't in a vampire citadel any longer. He was in the middle of a war.

"If they're not wearing red, then I have to shoot them dead." Onyx repeated the mantra over and over again, his eyes flawlessly focused on the iron sights of his rifle. He swept over the landscape through an attached peripheral scope, hardly feeling the heft of the massive gun on his shoulder, thanks to his military grade bipod. His breathing was calm and steady, but aside from the rolling hills and mud-brick houses, there was nobody to be found.

"Turn to your six James, there's a small group approaching your position. What will you do?" Yuki's voice was clear, instantly prompting him to turn his body around and re-establish the position of his bipod.

"If they're not wearing red, I'll shoot them dead." Onyx blasted a round, and then five, that rocketed through the air as if guided by an angel of death. Two women and three children's bodies fell into lifeless slumps, their blood staining the red earth further. The rifle's recoil painfully kicked him in the side of his chest, but he was too familiar with the pain that followed for it to bother him. Onyx traced the direction of the civilian's travel to the south and found that more ants with blue berets were barking orders and appearing bewildered at the sound of gunfire. James took a deep breath in, and popped the tallest man's head from his shoulders, maiming two others before dropping to the grass, invisible, miles away from the encampment. He reloaded the rifle as if it were a child's toy. In fact, the gun had been his tenth birthday present, crafted by Yuki's special team of men that took care of him. He'd do whatever Yuki commanded.

Onyx shook his head, but the visions didn't end. He didn't see Blade or Aisha anywhere, but could recognize his surroundings. These were his past memories as a child, though he still had no idea who Yuki was and why he was connected to SPECS as a result of having known him. A searing pain slit across his chest, making his arms and legs convulse. He babbled unintelligible words while trying to clear the fog that stopped him from knowing the room immediately. He couldn't have been more than eight years old, and was on an operating table with bright lights and metal instruments everywhere.

"He's waking up! I thought we administered enough morphine, call another nurse!" Yuki sniped in a cursory hush. There was a shuffling of feet and the sound of a door closing nearby. Onyx's vision was returning. The Japanese man that hovered over him looked to be in his mid-forties, with short, jet black hair styled simply and professionally. He wore a doctor's mask and a white suit befitting the occupation. What drew Onyx in were the piercing eyes, and the wrinkles around the edges of them as Yuki continued shouting orders, while staring directly at him. Onyx wanted to reach up and hug him. It was Yuki Naga, his caregiver.

His arms did not move. After trying several painful times, he looked down and could see his right ulna bone as plain as day, the folds of skin and muscle making up his arm torn open with a scalpel, leaving a bloody mess everywhere. As panic and a sudden hyperactive awareness of the limb flooded his brain, he gagged some more on a device that was in his mouth, and the heart monitor near his bed went haywire. What was this? What were they doing to him? Was this terrible feeling in his gut, pain?

"Sedate him now, he's going into shock!" Yuki backed away while the nurse forced the drugs into his IV, using double the recommended dosage. James's stomach lurched forward, the sudden motion of his limbs knocking over some silver medical supplies on an adjoining table to the bed. Onyx gyrated, but couldn't control any of his movements. Creamy colors blended together, making him feel dizzy and confused. The entire room slid to the left, blurring into copies like the dragging of a camera shutter. Everything was ghostlike and unreal. While Onyx's battered and bloody body refused to cooperate with him, his ears worked just fine. Yuki was seriously pissed.

"Where the fuck were you? Nobody said you could take a break!" There was a harsh slapping sound that echoed through the small space followed by another round of shuffling feet. "My weapon needs to be perfect in all functions, and intact down to the hair follicles, not waking up in the middle of a fucking operation! So help me God if you make one more mistake like this…" Yuki's voice floated away on the wind, while James fell into a deep, deep slumber.

When he awoke for the third time, his vision again was blocked, but this time due to a camouflaged military hat jammed down atop his cranium, messing up his disheveled brown locks even further. They were in a fortified underground bunker, two years later, preparing to go to the surface, where there were bomb blasts that shook the room, dropping small clods of dirt from the ceiling. There were also massive explosions from armored tanks, marking the intensity of the war raging up above. It was not a pretty battle, not by far. James was ten years old again, he knew it in his blood, and he was not permitted to raise his head with Yuki present, even though with Kevlar against his chest, rifle slung across his back, and an emergency pistol in his pocket, he appeared much older, especially for his height.

"Leave the weapon for Blade, and I withdraw all troops under my command from your precious Americas this second. In fact, I'll go a step further and never set foot on these soils again, should you so desire. This is my word, which is bound by the contract you see before you. Will you hold up your end of the bargain?" The voice boomed across the empty room, only heard by the three of them. Onyx studied the small speckles of gravel that littered the metal floor, pretending to count them one by one to distract himself. Raising his head would guarantee more than just a physical punishment, and Onyx was obedient to Yuki all of the time without exception. All he could do was listen in silence as the two men a few feet away referenced him again and again, calling him a weapon instead of a person. He had grown accustomed to it, for it had been years already since the objectified terminology had begun. James closed his eyes for a few seconds trying to concentrate. Was that other voice familiar to him?

"Just because you're a vampire tyrant doesn't mean that I'm a fool. I want your crest, in blood, imprinted on this contract, and an oath sworn to me under vampire law. This isn't some paper to throw away; this is an international treaty. You will take back every soldier of foreign origin, and leave at once. For future reference, it would be wise to watch who you're playing games with." Onyx heard Yuki state, followed by a deep bellowing laughter from the other party. He didn't know why, but the sound made him tremble with a fear unlike any he'd ever felt before.

"What a crafty human! I could spill your guts over this entire room if I wanted! I could pick my teeth with your bones and tear away your eyes just to stomp on them with my shoes! Just be lucky you have the boy here with you. Were it not for him, we would already own you, and have control over this continent with ease." The vampire's voice was filled with an underlying threat, which fazed his master none.

"I am aware. Now sign." Yuki was curt and direct.

Overcome with curiosity, Onyx lifted his head to see a seven-foot tall monster with pale grey skin and royal armor punch his large left wrist with his right hand, coming away with a ruby colored ring that dripped blood. The huge vampire adorned in red and gold pressed his ring against the heavily inked contract, which burned a permanent tracing of its insignia across the bottom. Onyx saw Yuki's eyes open wide with fascination at the agreement, James's eyes widening along with him. Onyx only remained captivated for a second however, remembering that his gaze ought to be cemented to the floor.

"I give my word under vampire law that this contract is soul-binding and now in full effect, ash to ash, dust to dust." There was a flash of light, and the third party was no longer present. Yuki clearing his throat verified it.

"Come along now James, there's work for us to do." Yuki commanded, giving him a pat on the shoulder. James nodded, taking the rifle off his back and began climbing the metal staircase back into a man-made fox trench, at least four feet deep below the surface. "All right now James, you will find a man in a trench coat on this battlefield, in a forest to the west. He is the only one not on our side that you aren't permitted to kill. Upon contact, you will follow him faithfully and support his cause. He will be your new commander, do you understand?"

"I do." Onyx replied, checking his gun to make sure everything was in working order. He was obedient to Yuki, all of the time.

Aisha thought she would've bumped into Onyx at his abrupt stop, but what she found instead was Japan, her homeland. The air was clean and breezy, and brushed her face with the kindest of kisses, causing the cherry blossom petals from the mature trees nearby to dance on the wind. It made her so happy. Easily distinguishing her mother's estate, she ran over a wooden bridge that overshadowed a small pond, where a few frogs croaked on top of lily pads. Running past a few dragonflies, she pulled aside one paper door after another, until she found her beautiful mother, whose arms were open wide for her.

"Are you ready to train my love? It's time you learned the way of our clan." Aisha couldn't tell if the sight of her young and beautiful mother was making her cry, or if her child-self had some welled up emotions deep inside, but tears streamed down her face regardless, while Akane's soothing hands warmed her back. She nodded her head on a sniffle, because her throat felt constricted by her sobbing. The world around her changed.

"Again! You have to concentrate and redirect the blow. Use chi if you have to!" Akane barked, leveling the full tang, battle-ready katana at Aisha, whose only defense was a wooden sword and her innocent grade school appearance. She'd just returned home from her private lessons, and was already dressed in the proper dojo attire, beginning her daily training, which would last for at least two hours. Aisha firmly held the sword in her hand, which was lined above the handle with quarter inch notches, where she'd parried, or attempted to, hundreds of times before. It was hard to catch her breath, but she wouldn't stop her regimen. Aisha couldn't stop; this was her mother's way.

Aisha set her feet hard, analyzing Akane's swing. She knew from past experience that her sword strike would be two-pronged, and that countering the initial blow alone would not be enough to avoid injury. The sharp katana dented the wood again, with the initial contact, but even though Aisha switched her stance to compensate for the second blow, she found herself on the floor again due to the strength and technique of her mother's unique strikes. It was almost hopeless.

"You can do it honey, try again. If you are to one day inherit Makugane and the rest of my possessions, you need to be strong, and know how to defend yourself in case a rival clan attacks."

Aisha smiled on the inside at her mother's words, which gave her the strength to stand once more. Adjusting her wooden bokken again, she slowly allowed her chi to gather first in her hands, and then through the weapon. She wasn't going to fail again. Akane pointed the blade at her another time, before launching into a swift swing, which neatly rebounded off of the wooden surface with a force so great, Akane was forced to drop the weapon or break her wrist.

"Well done my daughter." Akane bowed low and Aisha copied her, ending the session. From that day forward, the beat up blade would stay with her constantly, even while she slept.

Aisha awoke, finding herself running through a different part of their massive home, which was built in a gigantic square shape with walls that gave it the nickname 'the impenetrable fortress'. Even though she was in a different part of the house, she knew her mission was the same as it often was; she was looking for Akane. As she padded along in her favorite pair of tabi shoes2 she checked door to door, sneaking past the handmaidens, less they reprimand her for being up after hours. Aisha snuck her way past the kitchen, careful not to drag the wooden blade at her hip, and down a corridor that normally would be guarded by men who worked for her father. She easily bypassed the empty passageway. There was only one door in this direction at the end of the hall on her left, and she knew that her mother was inside, because she could already hear Akane's musical voice. First, she'd surprise her mother with her ninja skill, and then Aisha would ask her a question that had been burning on the tip of her tongue for awhile now.

Inching apart the two halves of the door so that they wouldn't make noise, Aisha peered inside, where her mother was dressed in a deep sea of green robes, waving her hands around what appeared to be lifeless bats on the middle of a table. Aisha wanted to jump out and surprise her chanting mother, but was captivated by the swirling colors that bounced around the room.

She watched Akane dance around the table, saying large words that Aisha couldn't even understand. The colors that shined brilliantly around her still dominated her attention, but there was something else happening as well. On the wall, on a heavy, specially crafted rack was Makugane, the legendary sword of their family. The weapon was a wonder in itself, from the beautifully crafted handle down to the razor sharp edge of the blade. From the tip of the weapon, a stream of black ooze connected to each of the bats seamlessly through the air, curling around the small bodies like hungry tendrils. At first Aisha was enthralled, but suddenly, she became very, very afraid. The plethora of rainbow colors vanished, and it was as if spirits swirled around the room, enveloping it in a mysterious grey mist that sucked away the majority of the light from the atmosphere. Aisha could see full skeletons flying through the air and vanishing through the walls. They terrified her.

"Mama mama, help me!" Aisha shrieked as two dozen bats with glowing irises flapped past her and out of the room. Akane had finished chanting and was there by her daughter in a flash, holding the child close to her heart.

"There there little one, what are you doing up at this time of night? The handmaidens should have had you in bed hours ago." Akane tickled Aisha's midriff and the child erupted into laughter. When Aisha opened her eyes again, the room was back to normal, brightly lit by electric lamps.

"I sneaked past them mama, look!" Aisha pointed to her tabi shoes and Akane laughed right along with her. Her child was as resourceful as they came. It made her unbelievably happy to hold her little bundle of joy in her arms. Akane swore that she would never take that simple pleasure for granted, because she knew there was war between the clans just over the horizon. Joining the Koga and the Yamakita clans through marriage hadn't been the brightest idea, but then again, was love ever perfect?

"Nice job working on your ninja skills, but ninjas need rest too you know, especially when they have school in the morning. Now what did you need me for?" Akane tickled her again, until her daughter begged her to stop. When Aisha could catch her breath, she looked up at her mother, smiling from ear to ear.

"Mama, why do you always wear red contacts? I've wanted to ask you that for a really long time."

Shocked, Akane opened her mouth for a second, saying nothing, wondering what in the world could prompt such a question. Had Aisha seen her drop fang during the ritual? She honestly couldn't remember if she had or not, the strength of the sorcery she was casting had completely drowned out little details like that, despite its revolutionary success. "My dear child," Akane crooned, twirling one of Aisha's stray locks with her index finger. "I wear them to protect my identity."

Her lungs were burning. Aisha tried keeping her head down to avoid the choking smoke, but it just didn't help. The sudden change in her visions was dramatically disturbing, leaving her unprepared and destined for death. She was almost walking ahead blindly, but her brother's voice every few steps was a beacon of hope. There was fire everywhere, eating holes in decorative walls, devouring the floorboards, and destroying all of the beautiful plans her family had spent decades cultivating. Instinct told her to run to her room, and her heart wanted her to look for her mother, but she knew that finding her brother was probably the only thing that would get her out of the flames alive. "Aiden where are you?" Aisha cried out, choking coughs making her want to just fall over and give in. Even though she could not see, she knew that once her brother's voice called back she would almost be there, out, and away from the castle, hopefully somewhere safe. The world around her was spinning, as the rest of the vision shot by in a blur.

Blade stared blankly ahead at the thousands of bodies piled stack by stack before him. The corpses' empty, dead eyes were rolled every which way, yet still managed to be as piercing as if they were still active and animate. His nightmares were only just beginning.

1 The Yagyu Shinkage-Ryu (The new shadow school) style of swordsmanship was taught to Blade for six years under the guidance of Tanba Yagyu

2 Tabi shoes (sometimes referred to as ninja socks) are the popularized two toed shoes often worn by ninjas to decrease the sound of footsteps on any surface, while providing good traction for climbing


End file.
